My Brothers' Keeper
by foxface15
Summary: After Sarah Sumpter comes home to find her mother near death on her bedroom floor, she follows her last wishes and leaves her home behind in search of the only person who can help her, a man in South Dakota named Bobby Singer. Once there, Sarah uncovers the mystery of the father that she never knew, and finds out her family has more secrets than she could ever have imagined. SISFIC
1. The Beginning

First off, I want to thank you for choosing to read my story! I have worked very hard on this, and I hope that you enjoy it! Hopefully if all goes well, I will be able to publish chapters on Tuesdays and Saturdays. If I can't work it out to publish on one of those days, then I will tell you all otherwise. Please feel free to review, I love constructive criticism!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

I grabbed the brown grocery bags out of the back of my red 1969 Chevrolet Camaro. I carefully shut and locked the door without spilling the various food items, and then walked up the small driveway to our humble one-story house that I had lived in my whole life.

I cautiously maneuvered so that I could reach around and grab the house key out of my back pocket, and then inserted it into the door and turned to push it open with a gentle shove of my back.

"Mom!" I yelled into the quiet house as I shut the door back behind me. "I'm back!"

My mom had sent me on a quick run to the store to grab a few groceries for the upcoming week. Honestly, I didn't know why she hadn't done it herself, because it would've been easier for her to drop by on the way home from her job as a nurse at a small medical clinic in town. But I didn't mind her asking, besides, she probably wanted to get home early today. It was Friday after all.

I walked into the kitchen and sat the groceries down on the counter. "Mom?" I asked loudly, surely she would've heard me by now. I shrugged; maybe she had fallen asleep after she had gotten home.

Instead of waiting for a reply, I started to put the groceries away. I pulled a gallon of milk out of the first bag, but when I turned to pull open the refrigerator door, I noticed a small blot on the wall next to the door.

Curious, I sat the milk back down on the counter and walked over to inspect the small area. It was dark in color, and about the size of a quarter. A small trickle of the liquid was beginning to run down the wall below the splotch. I gently stuck my finger to it, and when I pulled away it came back red.

I was immediately on edge. I looked around the rest of the room, and found a small trail of blood leading across the floor and down the hallway in our house. Quietly, I moved over next to the stove where mom kept her knives in a wooden holder and grabbed a large butcher knife. Then I followed the blood trail across the kitchen, wondering how I hadn't noticed it sooner. I stopped at the corner, and pressed my back up against the wall.

I turned to look down the hallway, and seeing that it was clear, slowly crept down to the next door, which was the bathroom. Turning the knife in my hand so that it faced out, I quickly thrust the door open, only to find nothing on the other side.

I moved to the opposite side of the hallway, where my mom's office was. I did the same there, and also at my bedroom, which was the next door down, only to be met with the same results as the bathroom.

At the end of the hallway was my mom's bedroom. I grasped the door handle with the hand that wasn't clutching the knife, and took a deep breath to steel myself. Looking down, I saw that the blood trail was leading under the door. If I was going to find anything, it was going to be in there.

I threw the door open, expecting the worst, but at first glance nothing seemed out of place. Then I saw the blood trail leading to the opposite side of the bed. I followed it around to the other side, and the knife slipped through my fingers and clattered to the floor.

My mom was lying, seemingly unconscious, on the floor beside the bed surrounded by her own blood. The bed sheets that must have fallen on the floor beside her had also been stained a deep satin color.

I rushed to her, dropping on my knees to the floor. I saw that she had pressed her hands over her abdomen, and I assumed that was where the wound was. I reached down and grasped her shoulder.

"Mom?" I asked, but got no response.

"Mom!" I yelled, she stirred a little, before going still again. That was all I needed to know, that she was still alive. I grabbed her other shoulder.

"Mom!" I yelled again, shaking her shoulders with both hands. "Please! Wake up!"

She stirred again, but this time her eyes flickered open. Not much, but they were open. That was all that mattered.

"Hey baby." She whispered, so low I almost missed it.

I started to slide my arm under her limp shoulders. "Mom, c'mon. I need to get you to a hospital." I said, my voice cracking. I could barely stand it to see her like this. Mom was always the strong one in any situation.

"Sarah." She said, as I tried to lift her up. I brought her head up onto my lap, trying to get in a better position to hoist up her limp form.

"Sarah." She said, sterner. I looked at her, hesitating in my efforts.

"It's no use sweetheart," she said. "It'll come back."

I shook my head. "Mom, no." I nearly sobbed. I brushed some blood-caked hair behind her ear. "That's why you sent me out." I whispered in realization. My mom had known whatever hurt her was coming.

"We both knew it could happen, Sarah." Mom replied, her eyes soft. A tear slipped down my cheek.

"You know what to do Sarah. Be strong for the both of us." My mom whispered, her eyes fading. "I love you."

"I love you too, mom." I replied back as her eyes slipped closed. I sucked in a deep breath, it had all happened so fast. I placed my hand down on my mother's blood stained shirt, and sobbed when I couldn't feel a heartbeat.

* * *

When I could compose myself again, I gently laid my mom's lifeless body back down on the floor and got up off my knees. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror in the bedroom. The figure staring back at me didn't seem alarmed at her blood-stained clothes.

I ran back around the bed and into the hallway, stopping at the closet in mom's bedroom on the way to grab a large duffle bag. I went as fast as I could manage, not knowing how long I would have until the _it _that my mom had been talking about came back.

I dashed into my mom's office, and reached up onto the top of the cabinets that had been installed there. I found the envelope containing the two letters that she had put there, one for me, another for a man named Bobby Singer, and an address to said man's house. She left that there in case anything happened to her. I didn't hesitate in grabbing the envelope.

I placed the thick envelope into the duffle and then spun around to the safe underneath my mom's desk, hurriedly spinning the dial. I popped the door open, and grabbed our legal documents and the stored money that my mom had saved for emergencies.

After I had stuffed those into the duffle bag, I ran back around the desk to a larger cabinet and reached up to the top corner to grab the key that my mom had showed me. After I unlocked the door, I pulled out a few of my mom's firearm collection; a revolver, pistol and a hunting rifle. I carefully placed them into the bag on top of the paper items. Then I unlocked the drawers underneath the larger compartment, pulling out several hunting knives, and then a small duffle bag that we had reserved for emergencies of the more _supernatural_ kind. In it were bags of salt, holy water and several other items that warded off paranormal creatures, and I had already begun to suspect that what happened to mom was the cause of one of them.

Running back out into the hallway, I set the two duffels down and then went into my room. I flung open my closet door and grabbed one of my suitcases from the back. Rapidly, I stuffed a few outfits into it, and then did the same with delicates from my dresser and bathroom items from a little bag that I often took with me on trips away from home. After I had finished with those, I quickly placed a few sentimental items into the suitcase. The locket necklace my mom had gotten me for my last birthday, the stuffed teddy bear that I had had from since I was little, and a picture of me and my mom. I also managed to stuff my laptop computer and phone with their respectable chargers into the already packed luggage. I zipped up my suitcase and rushed out of my room.

Grabbing the other two bags on my way down the hallway, I rushed out the front door without even thinking to shut it behind me.

I opened the trunk of my Camaro and thrust the bags and suitcase into it, unzipping the large duffle bag to grab the envelope, and then slammed the door shut and ran back around to the driver's side. My mind went numb as I realized that it might be the last time that I would ever see my house.

I backed out of the driveway and pulled onto the road, my wheels screeching as I took off down the quiet street. I was about three blocks away when I looked in my rear view mirror and saw black smoke starting to rise in the direction of my home. I slammed on the brakes and came to a harsh stop as I looked back at the smoke. My whole life, gone in a trip to the grocery store. I let a single sob escape me, and then I forced myself to stay composed. My mom had wanted me to be strong. And I would, for her.

I took a deep breath, and then pulled the address out of the envelope. It looked like I was in for a long night. I had a long ways to go, and my journey was just beginning.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think about the first chapter? Please review if you liked it! Thanks again for reading!


	2. Sioux Falls, SD

First off, thank you for the reviews, favorites and follows! I'm glad that everyone seems to like it so far!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural Universe, only Sarah.

* * *

The drive to Bobby Singer's home in Sioux Falls from my house in Dayton, Ohio took me nearly half a day. I didn't stop for anything, other than gas at a crappy station in the Western part of Illinois.

I pulled into an old salvage yard at about eight in the morning, stopping my car to check the address again. _Had mom really directed me to a scrap yard?_ I stopped myself, the thoughts of my mom overwhelming me for a moment. Then I took a deep breath, and let off the brake.

I rolled up in front of a massive blue three-story house. I turned off the vehicle, and then stepped out of my car onto the driveway, turning to grab the letters my mom had wrote for me and Bobby Singer. I walked past a blue tow truck towards the house, the papers clutched tightly in my hand.

All this time I was taking in my surroundings and judging how safe things appeared. The house had an overall messy appeal to it, and there were cars stacked by the dozens surrounding the whole place. It had a creepy feeling to it, like at any time something strange could happen.

I tried to ignore my subconscious while I climbed the steps up to the front porch, and then hesitantly walked up to the door. Cautiously, I raised my fist and struck the door three times fast. A few seconds later, I heard a rough 'I'm coming' from inside the house.

The door swung open to reveal a gruff looking man wearing a ball cap and sporting a short beard.

"Can I help you?" He asked me.

"Are you Bobby Singer?" I asked, to which he nodded. I handed him the envelope, and he took it, but didn't open it.

"My name is Sarah Sumpter." I said, and his face prickled up in confusion. "My mom told me to come here."

"Sumpter?" He asked, surprised. "I didn't think that Marcie had kids." He said, and I sucked in a breath. He knew my mom's name.

"Did you know her?" I asked.

"Yeah, we were good friends." He said, fingering the letter between his hands. "Did something happen to her?" He said, meeting my eyes.

My eyes started to water. "She was killed." I felt a stab in my gut. It hurt to say what I was afraid to admit.

He seemed to notice then that my clothes were covered in deep splotches of blood. He stood up straighter and held the door open for me.

"I think you should come in." He said solemnly.

* * *

After retrieving my bags and then changing out of my ruined clothes, Bobby led me to a small living room where I plopped down on a couch, purely exhausted. He walked back out of the room, telling me that he would get something for me to drink. I picked up my own envelope and broke the intricate wax seal, careful to preserve the delicate pattern. Inside was a folded up piece of paper. I quickly unfolded it, desperate to see what my mom had said to me.

_My Dearest Sarah,_

_If you are reading this, then something terrible must have happened to me. First of all, I want you to know that I love you, more than anything. You are my world Sarah, and I want you to continue on without my memory holding you back. I've trained you to the best of my ability, and you are so very capable of facing every evil being on this earth. Just please honor me by being careful. Don't do anything that you know you can't handle. Please. _

I read further with tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, and my mother's tone changed.

_I never told you about your father Sarah, because I was afraid of what you would want to know, and I was even more terrified of how I could possibly answer you. His name was John, Sarah. He was a great man, but we were both broken. I had lost my husband two years before on a hunt, and his wife was killed a while before we met each other. He still hadn't gotten over her loss when we accidentally ran into each other between hunts. We connected on a deeper level, as most hunters do. We were only together for one night, but that was enough to create you. John left the next morning, and I haven't seen him since. I never told him that I was pregnant; he didn't need any more emotional strain on his shoulders. _

_I know that you need support now that I'm gone, that's why I'm sending you to Bobby's. Give him his letter, and he should know what to do. Also, I don't know where John is, but if you find him, tell him who you are and he might be able to help you some. And if you can't find John, you might could find his_-

I was cut off from my readings when Bobby came back, holding a steaming cup of liquid in one hand and his letter in the other. I could tell that he had already read it by the look on his face. I set my letter down on the end table beside the couch as he walked over and sat down next to me, and handed me a cup of coffee with a little cream mixed in judging by the color.

I took a sip and swallowed, the steaming liquid feeling like heaven going down my throat. "Thank you." I said to Bobby, who was looking at me with curiosity. He grunted in response.

"How did your mom die, Sarah?" He asked quietly.

I looked at my feet, and tried to block out my emotions as I told him what had happened at my house the day before. He just nodded and shook his head, like it was just something he heard every day. When I was finished, I glanced over and saw where he had laid his letter on the couch beside him.

"You read it?" I asked, nodding to his letter.

"Yeah." He replied. "Don't worry; you'll be fine now, kid."

"Thank you Bobby." I said, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

* * *

I spent the rest of the day talking with Bobby about how my mom had taught me fighting techniques and ways to defeat supernatural entities, but also how I never really had a chance to use what I knew. Later I ran to town to grab some groceries for us. It was the least I could do for him, since for the time being I would be staying at his place.

Bobby said that he could have a bedroom cleaned out for me by the next morning, but for the time being I had to sleep on the couch. I didn't mind, I couldn't sleep anyways.

Even though I was utterly exhausted, every time I tried to shut my eyes all I could see was my mom's face as the light drained from her eyes. I woke with a start every time I tried to sleep. Eventually I gave up.

Instead of lying idly on the couch, I busied myself with looking at the large collections of books that Bobby kept. Most were on topics of the supernatural and I found a few in Latin - I could only understand the few words that my mom had taught me when I was younger - but I finally found a few literary classics stashed away in the corner of the room.

I grabbed the copy of Shakespeare's _Macbeth _and returned to the couch. But when I was only a few scenes in, I heard a knock on the door. I glanced over at the clock that Bobby had graciously hooked up for me. _3:48 A.M._ Nobody got visitors this early in the morning.

I set the book down on the end table, and then slowly stood up, trying to be as quiet as I could. I made my way over to where I had set my bag on one of the desks, and gently reached inside and retrieved my pistol.

As I checked the cartridge to make sure it was loaded, Bobby passed by the room and looked in, seeing me standing there. He hesitated for a moment, before raising a hand and make a gesture that said 'Stay right here'. He continued on down the hallway towards the door as I stayed just out of sight around the door frame, my gun raised. I flicked the safety off.

I heard the door open, followed by Bobby's deep sigh.

"You boys almost gave me a heart attack coming in this late at night," He said, and I immediately relaxed. At least Bobby knew these people.

"Sorry Bobby," A deep voice said. "We just came in from a hunt and we were close, so we figured it was better than a hotel."

"Nah, it's no problem. I'll take you two idjits in anytime," Bobby replied.

I switched the safety back on and returned the pistol into its holster in my bag. Then I walked back to the door.

"Besides," Bobby continued, "there's someone I'd like you two to meet."

I walked out into the hallway, curious as to who would be here at such a ridiculous hour.

Behind Bobby were two men. They both were dressed in thick clothes and strong fabrics, like the kind my mom had hanging in her closet for hunts. The shorter of the two had cropped hair and a strong jawline, and was wearing a dark leather jacket. In stark contrast to his companion, the taller one had longer hair and had already taken his jacket off to reveal a plaid button up underneath. I automatically read him as the softer of the two. Both of them, however, were looking at me with curious faces.

"Um, hi." I stuttered, hating the awkwardness of the moment. I looked back to Bobby, who appeared to be gauging my reaction.

"Hi." The taller one said, giving me a quick wave of his hand. The shorter one just nodded his head at me, and then turned to Bobby for an explanation.

"Boys, this is Sarah, Marcie Sumpter's daughter." Bobby introduced us, "Sarah, this is Dean and Sam Winchester."

* * *

A/N: And there is Chapter Two! I hope you liked it! Please leave a review if you did!


	3. The Letter

Hi again guys! I know that this chapter is a day early, but I've decided that I want to change the update days to Mondays and Fridays. I just felt that it would be easier on me, so I hope you don't mind. Enjoy Chapter Three!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

Early the next morning I was up and in the kitchen, preparing a hearty breakfast for Bobby and the Winchester brothers. The night before hadn't lasted much longer than introductions because we were all utterly tired, even me.

After I had prepared the bacon, eggs, and toast, I sat down at the little kitchen table with _Macbeth_, which I had stopped reading after the boys came last night. I was finally able to get a few hours' sleep without my mother's final moments replaying behind my eyelids.

I stabbed a piece of scrambled egg with my fork, then raised it to my mouth. I had to admit, even though I wasn't Food Network worthy, I made a pretty mean egg.

I flipped the page of the book, and then grabbed a piece of bacon. I got so immersed in the play that I didn't notice footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

"Nice tattoo." I heard someone say behind me, and I jumped a little in shock. Turning my body to face the door, I saw Sam leaning against the frame. I let out a startled laugh.

"Thanks." I said, knowing what he was referring to. On my left shoulder was an anti-possession symbol, and it was easily seen because I had decided to wear a tank top that day. "Come and get something to eat." I said, gesturing with the book to the stove, where I had left the frying pans full of the breakfast foods.

"How long have you had it?" Sam asked, walking over and grabbing a plate out of the cupboard. He took a few pieces of bacon and a heaping pile of eggs, and then sat down opposite me.

"A few years," I responded, "my mom made me get it the moment I turned sixteen."

"She was a good hunter." Sam replied, his mouth full of bacon. "I've heard lots of stories about her."

I smiled, embarrassed. "Yeah," I said, looking at my plate of food. "I wish I could've seen her hunt."

"You never went on hunts with her?" Sam asked.

"I did sometimes," I responded, "but that was rare. She didn't want me to get hurt by accident." I replied. "I was mainly her go-to research person." Sam nodded in understanding.

"Who made breakfast?" Another voice asked from the door. I turned and saw Dean as he walked into the kitchen. "Smells delicious."

"Thanks," I replied. "Dig in."

"Don't mind if I do." Dean said, grabbing a plate of food and a beer out of the fridge, and then coming over to sit next to me.

"How old are you anyhow, Sarah?" He asked, stuffing his mouth full of eggs and toast.

"Nineteen." I replied, slipping the bookmark into _Macbeth_ and laying it on the table beside me.

Dean's eyebrows rose. "And you're already hunting?" He asked.

"Not really." I replied, scooting my eggs around my plate with my fork. "I usually just did the research for my mom." I explained.

The boys nodded, and the conversation slowed down. Finally, Sam piped up.

"Wait, you're only nineteen?" He asked, and I nodded with a mouthful of bacon. "Shouldn't you be in college?"

I swallowed the bacon in a big gulp. "Technically I still am." I explained. "I was taking classes at the community college in my hometown when mom got killed." I looked down at my half empty plate. "I don't know what to do about it anymore."

"You'll be fine." Dean said. "You seem like the stronger type to me."

I smiled a little, looking up from my plate. "Thank you." I said sincerely. "Besides, I could still probably switch to the classes online, so I don't lose credit."

"That sounds smart." Sam said, smiling at me.

"Sounds like you three are making a nice acquaintance." Bobby said, lumbering into the kitchen.

"Morning Bobby." I said. "Grab you a plate."

"Sure thing, kid." He replied, taking a plate down from the cupboard. I picked up my plate and stood from the table. I walked over to the sink to wash my dish, noticing that Bobby had left his letter from my mom lying on the counter. Though I was curious about what she had told him, I knew that it was between the two of them, so I didn't think much of it.

I washed my plate and then stepped back over to the table and picked up my book. "I'm going up to take a shower. Call if you need anything." I said as I turned to leave the kitchen, the boys all had stuffed mouths, but they smiled and nodded at me anyway.

* * *

I stepped out of the hot shower, wrapping a towel around my body as the cold air hit me. It felt weird, showering in someone else's house, but I guess that was going to be something normal now.

Of the few things that I grabbed from my room before I left home, I was glad that I thought to throw in a few bathroom items, especially my brush. I pulled it through my unruly hair, jerking out the tangles as I went.

As I pulled on a pair of jeans and a green button-up, I thought I heard the boys talking loudly downstairs. That was weird, they weren't being that loud before, when I was down there. But I didn't think much of it as I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and then threw my bag back into the bedroom that Bobby had cleared for me across the hallway. He stayed true to his word, and my new bedroom was clear of all the clutter that Bobby had stacked in it. It wasn't much, just a plain room with a bed, nightstand and dresser, but I didn't care. I was just glad that Bobby was helping me.

As I walked back down the steps, I realized that the guys downstairs _were _talking more loudly. In fact, it sounded like they were arguing. I stopped on the stairs and tried to make out what they were saying.

"You knew and you didn't tell us?" Dean said, his voice raised.

"Listen, son. I was just waiting for the right time." Bobby replied. "I wanted you all to get to know each other first."

"Does she know?" Sam asked.

"I don't think so." Bobby said, and I could almost imagine him shaking his head. "I'm not sure if her mom told her or not."

I wanted to know why they were talking about me, so I continued down the steps and into the kitchen.

"What's going on?" I asked, and all eyes turned to me. All three of them were standing around the table, and Dean held my mother's letter for Bobby in his hand. For a second I felt angry at him for seeing it; it was supposed to be for Bobby.

"Have you seen this yet?" He asked, raising the letter. I shook my head.

"Why?" I asked, confused. He handed the letter over to me. I quickly read the crinkled paper.

_Dear Bobby,_

_If you are reading this, it means that something terrible has happened to me. I hope that Sarah was the one that brought it to you. I hope she made it to you safe. Please, Bobby, take care of my girl. She doesn't have anyone left to look after her, and you were the last place that I could turn to. Hopefully she followed my instructions and got extra money from our house, so she can pay you for anything that she needs. _

_One other thing, Bobby. Sarah never knew her father. It was John. John Winchester._

I stopped reading. _Winchester?_ But then- I skipped down to the bottom of the page. I knew that mom would be telling Bobby the same story about how she and my dad met.

_I never told John about Sarah, so Dean and Sam wouldn't know about her either. I just don't know what to do, Bobby. I should have told John about Sarah when I could. Now it's too late. Please just do what you think is right. Take care of Sarah._

_Marcie_

I blinked and handed the letter back to Dean. I was so confused about everything. I needed time to think this through.

"You didn't know about this?" Sam asked. I shook my head again.

"Well this is just great." Dean said sarcastically, tossing the letter onto the table. He turned to Sam. "We have a sister."

"Hey, that's not a bad thing." Bobby said. Dean turned to him.

"Why didn't you tell us?" He crossed his arms. "You knew all along that she was our half-sister." Bobby didn't answer.

I spotted my keys on the counter by the door and walked around Sam towards them.

"Hey," Dean said, turning his attention to me. "Where are you going? We need to talk about this."

"I know. But I need to think this over, and you do too." I grabbed the keys off the counter and opened the door. "I'm going for a drive. I'll be back in a little while."

"Here," Bobby said, turning to snatch a little slip of paper out of a basket by the door. He found an ink pen and scribbled something on it. "At least take my number with you." He handed me the paper.

I shut the door tight behind me.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think now that the big secret has been revealed?


	4. Fangs

Hey guys! I hope that you like this chapter! Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites! Enjoy!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

I drove aimlessly down the roads surrounding Bobby's house, thinking over what had just happened.

I had brothers. Well, half-brothers, but they might as well have been my brothers. They were technically the only family I had left.

I was a little frustrated at my mom for not telling me, even though I didn't want to be. I had always wanted an older brother, and now I had two. But would they want me as well?

They seemed nice enough. And they were both hunters, so we would know what each other were going through. All in all, I was eager to get to know my new siblings. But would they feel the same way about me?

It only took me about twenty minutes to think the situation out, but I knew that Bobby, Sam and Dean might not be done discussing everything yet, so I kept driving.

Eventually I made my way into a little town about thirty minutes from Bobby's house. It would be what I would describe as 'quaint'. I passed a small church with a beautiful stained glass painting nestled under its steeple, and then came upon an old fashioned diner. I pulled into the gravel parking lot and dug through my glove box to find a few dollars. Hopefully I would have enough to buy a milkshake, because I really wanted something sweet.

I made my way into the diner, which was mainly empty except for a small group of people near the back of the room. I situated myself onto a shaky stool at the bar, and an overweight lady wearing an old-fashioned waitress uniform walked up to me from behind the counter, notepad in hand.

"Hey sweetie." She cooed. "What can I get for you?" She asked, her voice thick with accent.

"You don't happen to have milkshakes, do you?" I asked cautiously.

She laughed, throwing her head back. "Sure we do honey!" She smiled sweetly at me. "What flavor?" She asked.

"Chocolate, please." I responded. She jotted down a quick note on her pad, and then turned and walked back into the kitchen. I followed her with my eyes, and then turned to look at the other people in the restaurant. They looked normal enough, laughing with each other. A few beers sat on the table in front of them, some of them only partially full.

As if they sensed me looking at them, they all turned to gaze at me at once. Shocked, I dropped my eyes and pretended to play with my phone.

In my peripheral vision, I saw one of the boys at the table stand up and walk towards the counter. Thinking that he was just going to the bathroom on the other side of the diner, I didn't notice when he stopped and leaned up against the bar next to me.

"Hey sweetcakes." He said and I jumped, nearly dropping my phone. I turned to look at the boy. He seemed to be just a few years older than me, but his eyes seemed cold somehow. His dark hair was tussled and he was wearing a tight black t-shirt that revealed toned muscles underneath.

"Oh," I said, shocked. "Hi." I turned back to my phone; uninterested and hoping that he would take my hint.

"What's brought a girl like you to a rag-tag place like this?" He asked in what I assumed was his flirting voice.

"Just a milkshake." I said quickly, trying to dismiss his advances.

"Hey, why don't you and I go find someplace more private," He stretched the word. "And then we can talk about milkshakes, huh babe?"

"Ew," I said, pushing him away from me. "Back off, jerk."

Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him. "Don't you tell me what to do." He hissed. I was about to scream for help when he covered my mouth.

"Actually," He taunted, "you know what I'm in the mood for?" He didn't wait for my reply. "A little snack." He opened his mouth to grin at me, and with utter horror I saw a second set of teeth, sharp and narrow, descend from the roof of his mouth.

* * *

Back at Bobby's house, the three men were still talking about Marcie Sumpter's letter.

"What's going to happen to Sarah?" Sam asked, leaning against the counter. "Where is she supposed to go now?"

"She can stay here with me," Bobby replied, "But if she wants, and you two are okay with it, she can travel with you."

"No one deserves that life Bobby." Dean responded bluntly, sitting with his feet propped up on the table.

"Maybe it would be better, Dean." Sam said, moving to take the seat next to his brother. "Sarah's a hunter too. She could help out on cases."

"I just want the kid to be safe." Bobby answered. "It's whatever you three decide on."

They fell into a still silence. Bobby started to get up to dump his plate into the sink when the phone rang. He set his plate down on the counter and picked up the phone. The boys remained at the table; Sam looking down at his hands, and Dean staring at a random place on the wall.

"Hello?" Bobby asked in his rough tone. There was a pause.

"Kid, what's wrong?" He asked, and the boys looked up. Bobby grabbed the counter with the hand not clutching the phone.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and his face went pale. Sam stood up. "Where are you?"

"Hang on, okay?" Bobby continued, and Dean stood up, exchanging glances with Sam. "Sarah?" Bobby asked into the phone. "Sarah!" He yelled. He took the phone away from his ear with white knuckles. He silently hung up and turned to the boys. "She got attacked by vampires. We need to get to her right _now_."

All at once, the boys rushed from the house to the Impala. Bobby followed quickly behind, climbing hastily into the backseat. Then Dean started the car and sped out of the driveway.

* * *

The Impala pulled up outside of the diner Sarah had told Bobby she was at on the phone, and all three of the hunters jumped out. Sam and Dean rushed to the trunk of the car and grabbed various weapons they thought would be useful, throwing a few to Bobby before sprinting inside.

Inside the diner, the boys were met with a shocking view. Three bodies were sprawled on the floor, blood oozing out from their wounds. All of them were without a head.

After checking the bodies, the men searched the rest of the diner. As Dean walked towards the back corner near the bar, he saw that there was a blood trail leading to the back area of the kitchen.

Weapon raised, he approached the area with caution. But as he rounded the doorway, his eyes widened. Sarah, slumped up against a box of condiments, had her eyes closed and her cell phone held limply in her hand. She had blood all over her face, shirt, and pants.

"In here!" Dean yelled to Bobby and Sam before running over to Sarah. He felt for a pulse in her neck, and when he found one he looked her over for any other injuries. Besides being scratched and beaten, he found a deep cut in her abdomen that went from the bottom of her rib cage all the way to right below her navel. He also found another wound that sliced deeply into her upper right thigh.

Sam and Bobby rushed into the back room to see Dean lifting Sarah into his arms. He turned around to face the two men, who were staring at the girl in shock.

"We need to get her back to the house." Dean said, starting towards the door. Sam and Bobby moved to let Dean pass, then followed him out of the diner, staring at the dead vampires while passing.

"You reckon she did all of this herself?" Bobby asked, walking towards the Impala.

"That's what it looks like." Sam said, looking ahead at his brother. He ran forward to open the back door of the Impala and then climbed into the back, holding his arms out to receive Sarah. Dean carefully maneuvered Sarah's limp body into Sam's waiting arms, and then pulled open the driver's side door and climbed in. Bobby got into the passenger side, and without a word the trio pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think so far? I know there was a lot of action in that chapter, so please tell me your thoughts!


	5. Recovery

I know that the last chapter was quite suspenseful, but don't worry, it gets better in this one! Enjoy!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I don't own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

As I slowly drifted back to consciousness, I only had fleeting memories of what had happened at the diner. I remembered jumping over the counter behind me and grabbing a butcher knife from the kitchen, where the waitress and chef were staring at me dumbstruck. I also recalled telling the two workers to run out the back door and then beheading the first of the vampires, who had ran into the kitchen behind me, but then suddenly I was in the kitchen on the floor, calling Bobby. I didn't remember actually getting hurt, but when I moved to get my phone I remembered feeling sharp stabs of pain in my abdomen and leg. I could feel the warm heat of my blood dripping down my face from my forehead, but after I told Bobby where I was I blacked out.

When my eyes blinked open, I realized that I was lying in my bedroom at Bobby's house. I turned my head so that I could see the door, which was propped open. I wondered where everyone was so I started to prop myself on my arms, but an excruciating pain ripped through my stomach and I dropped back down onto my back, cursing quietly to myself.

I pushed back the covers and saw that I was no longer wearing my outfit that I had went to the diner in. Instead, I had on a baggy t-shirt and a pair of loose ball shorts that I recognized from my bag. I internally shuddered, thinking about how one of the boys would've had to change me. Gross.

I gently lifted up my shirt to see a thick gauze pad circling the entire left side of my abdomen. I flinched at the sight, which also made another harsh pain flicker through my body. I pulled my shirt back down, but noticed that my leg also hurt quite a bit, so I carefully lifted the bottom of my shorts to see another layer of gauze swathing my right thigh. A shiver raced through me, making my wounds hurt again, so I lifted the covers back over my body.

I glanced over to the side of the bed, and saw a glass of water resting on the nightstand. I cautiously reached over, attempting not to hurt myself, and picked up the clear glass. I raised it to my lips and eagerly took a sip. I suddenly realized that I was parched, so I took a giant gulp of the cool liquid. Some of the water went down the wrong way, and I started coughing, my injuries blazing up in pain.

I set the cup back on the table as fast as I could, and then nearly doubled over trying to get the unwanted water out of my system. When I thought it was all out I fell back onto the pillow, exhausted.

I heard footsteps outside my door, and turned my head to see Dean step into the room.

"You okay?" He asked, walking over to me.

"Yeah." I said, even though my voice sounded coarse from coughing so much. "Just had some water go down the wrong way."

Dean sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at me. "Sam's making you something warm to drink and getting you some painkillers."

I sighed. "Thank goodness." I said. "I can barely move without feeling like hell."

"Hey," Dean said, "you _did _face a whole coven of vampires back there."

I didn't reply and turned to look out the darkened window. "How long was I out?" I asked, turning back to Dean.

"All of yesterday and today." Dean replied as Sam walked into the room, holding a steaming mug in one hand and a few pills in the other. He walked over and handed me the hot cup, which turned out to be tea. I took the pills and swallowed them carefully, one at a time.

"How are you feeling, Sarah?" Sam asked as I handed him back the tea, and he sat it on the nightstand beside my unfinished glass of water.

"I'll be better after those kick in." I joked.

He smiled and then turned to Dean. "I'm going to call Bobby and tell him that she's awake." He said, and then walked out of the room.

I turned back to Dean. "Is this the worst of it?" I asked, placing my hand on my side.

"Yeah." He replied, "Sammy sewed you up the best he could. Don't worry, you'll live." I chuckled.

We fell into an awkward silence, and I began to think back on the events that had transpired the day before.

"I'm sorry." I said quietly, and Dean looked up from his hands.

"About what?" He asked.

"That you never knew about me." I responded, even though it sounded silly saying it.

"It's alright Sarah." Dean sighed. "There was no way you could have known."

The room became quiet again until Sam walked back in, dragging a chair from the kitchen table downstairs.

"Bobby said to never do that again." He said, setting the chair down backwards and plopping down onto it. "He wanted you to hear that first thing."

I shook my head and smiled, already feeling at home. It may have been sudden and unexpected, but I felt safe there, with Bobby, with my brothers.

* * *

"So what happens now?" I asked later that night once Bobby returned home from town. He had gone in to get some groceries, but also stopped to buy me some more pain medication from a local pharmacy. I was especially grateful for that.

"Well, first things first," Sam started. "You need to get better. And then…" He trailed off.

"Then what?" I asked, and the boys exchanged glances.

"Well, we were talking about this earlier," Dean continued, "and we decided that you could either stay here with Bobby, or go with us."

I tilted my head in confusion. "On hunts?" I asked. They both nodded.

"It's whatever you choose, kid." Bobby said, walking into the room with a plate of food for me. He made his way over and handed me the plate of french fries and a hamburger.

"Thanks," I said, and put a fry in my mouth. "So you would really take me with you?" I asked after I had swallowed.

"Of course." Sam said.

"I mean you've seen what happens when you're left on your own." Dean said, gesturing to the part of my abdomen where my bandages were. He reached over and grabbed a french fry, tossing it into his mouth. I pulled the plate away from him.

"Hey, no sharing." I joked, putting another fry in my mouth, and Dean looked at me in mock shock.

"But we're siblings!" He said.

"That doesn't give you rights to my food." I countered matter-of-factly, tossing Sam a fry. Dean turned to watch him put it in his mouth, then turned back to me, eyes wide.

"Then why did you give him one?" He asked.

"Because he didn't steal it from me." I replied, and Sam smiled.

"I think you three will get along just fine." Bobby said as he turned to leave the room.

* * *

A/N: So what are you thinking so far? Is anyone enjoying the story enough to do fanart yet? I'm just joking, lol. But that _would_ be cool! Please review, follow and favorite!


	6. First Case

Hello! I hope that you enjoy this chapter! Please review!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

Four weeks and a few bottles of Ibuprofen later, I was back on my feet and more or less back to normal. Sam had proved to have a great hand at stitching because my wounds had healed very nicely, and I was soon walking around on my own. I had felt awkward asking one of the guys to help me around the house, but I felt so weak that I couldn't do it any other way. Luckily the boys didn't seem to mind helping me out.

Sam and Dean did leave once to investigate a case in North Dakota, but they were back before the week was over. I knew that they had to keep working even though they both said that they wanted to stay at Bobby's with me, but I encouraged them to go. They could save more people, and besides, I would be fine.

The morning before we left I had actually gotten out of bed before eleven o'clock and went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Luckily, Bobby had made a grocery run into town the day before, so I was happy to find that I had all of the ingredients I needed to make biscuits and gravy.

About the time I got the biscuits out of the oven, Sam walked into the kitchen.

"That smells delicious." He said, sitting down at the table and stretching his back against his chair. I took out a few plates and set them on the counter for the boys, then made myself a plate, crumbling up the biscuits and then pouring the hot gravy over them.

"Then get up and grab you a plate." I joked, walking over to the table and sitting as Sam got up. As he took a plate from the pile, Bobby walked into the kitchen.

"My favorite." He said, rubbing his hands together. "I wish you made my meals more often, kid." He said to me as he grabbed a plate.

"Thanks Bobby." I said, taking another bite of my food. "Is Dean still in bed?" I asked. I hadn't seen him all morning.

"No," Sam said as Bobby sat down beside me and started digging into his food. "He actually ran down to the library in town to look up some stuff for a case."

"Yeah?" I asked, interested. The boys hadn't had a case in a couple of weeks; I was beginning to get worried that they were going to start hunting the dust bunnies in the house. "Where at?"

"It's in Wyoming." Sam responded. "My computer crashed so Dean ran to the library to look there."

I looked up at him. "Why didn't you just use mine?" I asked.

"You have one?" Sam asked. "I've never seen you use it."

I shrugged. "I've been busy, what can I say." He chuckled.

Just then the door opened, and Dean walked in with a few pages of print-outs. "You started breakfast without me?" He asked, setting the pages down on the counter and taking a plate from the stack.

"Sorry boy," Bobby started, "but you snooze you lose." Sam and I laughed at Bobby's joke while Dean just pouted and piled the warm biscuits and gravy onto his plate. For a second, it felt like we were just a normal dysfunctional family having breakfast together.

"So what did you find out about the case?" Sam asked as Dean sat down in between me and his brother.

"Well, this couple that died, Joseph and Susan Smith, they were found with slit necks in the attic of their house. Real execution-style." Dean raised a hand up to his throat and pretended like he was dragging a knife across his neck.

"Violent much?" I commented.

"Was there anything else?" Sam asked, "Any weird things about the house?"

"Another family that lived there, the Moore's, the couple died the same way. That was back in the early 60's though. There have been plenty of families that lived there up until the Smiths." Dean explained.

"That doesn't make sense." Bobby concluded. "It seems like a ghost of some sorts. But why is it killing them?"

"That's one thing that I couldn't figure out." Dean said. "The only other thing I found is that in 1923 a little kid, her name was," he reached over and grabbed one of the papers "Lucy White. She died a few days after the police found her parents William and Lorraine in the attic the same way as the other two couples." He explained.

"Let me guess, cut throat?" I asked.

"Actually not." Dean said, looking at me. "After they found the bodies of her mom and dad, they took her to a psych ward. They thought that she had killed her parents because she was the only one in the house at the time of the murder. She broke out the windows in her bedroom on the fifth floor and jumped."

"How old was she?" I asked.

Dean looked back at the paper. "Twelve." He stated.

"Poor girl." I said quietly.

"Was there any connection between the families?" Sam asked after a moment.

"None that I could find." Dean asked. "Guess we'll just have to see when we get there." He grinned, looking at me.

My eyes widened, "You mean I'm going too?" I asked, and Sam turned his attention away from his food.

"Well, you seem well enough too." He said, smiling. "And besides, we could use the help."

I gave a nervous laugh, "I can't wait."

* * *

The boys were finishing up packing while I sat on the couch in the library of Bobby's house. I was trying to dig up some more information on the possible connection between the Smith, Moore, and White families on my laptop.

I had managed to pull up the town records of the families on the internet, and was in the process of reviewing the records of the three families when I noticed something odd. As I looked at a picture of the Smith family, I saw that there was a little girl standing beside the deceased couple. I looked down at the caption. _Julia Smith, Age 8._

Enticed, I pulled up a picture of the Moore family in the 60s. Besides the two parents, there was also another little girl in the picture. The caption read: _Tabitha Moore, Age 10._ That was weird; all of the families had young daughters at the time when the parents died, including Lucy White from back in the 20s that had killed herself in her hospital room.

At that moment, Sam walked into the room, carrying one of his duffle bags. "Have you found anything?" He asked, setting the duffel down and sitting beside me on the couch.

"Actually, yes." I said, turning the laptop in Sam's direction. I had the three pictures of the families pulled up on the screen. "Notice anything similar?" I asked, and Sam leaned towards the screen. After a moment he looked up at me.

"They all have daughters." He stated, and I nodded. "Do you think that might have something to do with all of this?" He asked, and I turned the laptop back towards me.

I sighed. "I don't know Sam. I checked the local newspaper after the Smiths died. Julia Smith is currently staying with her grandparents in town, and," I said, typing the Moore daughter's name into my computer, "Tabitha Moore died two years ago."

"We might be able to talk to Julia, though." Sam pointed out.

"Probably our best bet." I said, closing my computer.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think of the start of Sarah and the boys' first case together? What do you think will happen?


	7. Nightmare

Hello everyone! I know that the last chapter was a bit of a bore, but fortunately it was only a setup for Sarah's first case with the boys. I hope this one is better! It was honestly one of my favorite chapters to type so far!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

Later that day, Sam, Dean and I packed our things into the back of Dean's Impala and were ready to head to Wyoming. I was stuffing my duffel full of clothes and my few weapons into the trunk of the car when Bobby followed Dean with the remaining baggage out of the house. Bobby walked up to me at the back of the car and engulfed me in a hug.

"You be careful kid," He said over my shoulder. I pulled back to look at him.

"Don't worry about me Bobby. I'll be fine," I replied, and then dug the keys to my Camaro out of my pocket. He held his hand out, and I placed them into his open palm. "You better take care of my car." I scolded.

We both glanced over to where my dirty red Camaro sat beside the house. Bobby turned back to face me.

"I'll keep her running for you." He said, smiling down at me. "Please check in every so often, Sarah. I tell the boys that all the time," He said, throwing his head over his shoulder towards the Impala, where the boys had already gotten in, "but they don't call as often as I'd like."

"I'll keep them in check," I said, grinning. Dean leaned out the front window of the car.

"Sarah, you coming?" He asked loudly, and I turned to hug Bobby one last time before walking around to the back door of the Impala.

As we pulled out of the driveway I turned to give Bobby one last wave, and then looked sadly in the direction of my stationary car.

"You know," I said, looking out the window as we passed my Camaro, "The one bad thing about this is that I have to ride in the backseat."

The boys just chuckled as we continued down the road and well on our way to Wyoming.

* * *

That night, after we had found a hotel in the town where the case was, we made our way to our room. Sam opened the door and pushed his way inside, but when we got into the room we all hesitated; there were only two beds. We exchanged glances.

"So how is this going to work?" I asked.

"Maybe we could just alternate turns?" Sam suggested. He turned to look at Dean.

Dean shrugged. "I guess." He said, dropping his bags on one of the beds, then turned to face Sam. "Rock paper scissors?" He asked, holding out his hands.

"Over me?" I asked, dropping my bag onto the table in the room. I plopped down in the chair beside it. "Well that's a first."

The boys played for who would have to share a bed with me the first night, and Dean turned out to be the lucky winner of being my bedfellow. He complained for the rest of the evening about how he wouldn't have the whole bed to himself.

* * *

That night after I had taken a shower, I slugged back into the room and climbed into what had been deemed my side of the bed. I checked my phone for any messages from Bobby, and then hooked it up to charge. I took _Pride and Prejudice _from my bag; Bobby had seen me reading _Macbeth _while I was hurt and had generously offered me some more of the classics from his collection. I now had a small library stuffed away in my bag.

After I had read a few chapters, I dog-eared the page and placed the book back in my bag. Sam had gotten in the shower after I returned to the room, and Dean had gone out to grab supplies for the days ahead. We were planning on interviewing Julia Smith and her grandparents the next afternoon, and Dean had made a quick run to a local printing store to copy some fake IDs for me. I didn't really approve of it, but if it helped someone in the future then I was willing to take the risk.

I flipped off the lamp beside the bed and then turned over, ready to get some sleep. After a few minutes, I was knocked out cold.

* * *

_Everything was quiet. My ears felt like they had been stuffed with cotton balls as I walked through the hallways in our old house. The colors of everything were muted; our once deep green walls now looked pale. _

_I walked into my mom's room without hesitation, heading around to the far side of the bed. My mom was there, lying on the hardwood flooring. Surrounded by blood that, instead of being a lighter color like the rest of the house, seemed to be more vivid than the floor around her body._

_I knelt down next to my mom and the blood around her seemed to swirl and create patterns in the shallow pool that was slowly growing around me. I reached down to touch her pale cheek…_

_And then her eyes flashed open and burned into mine, glowing a sickly red color. Her broken body arched up and stopped merely inches from my face. I tried to move but my body was frozen in place._

_My mother's red eyes blazed as she opened her mouth and let out a blood-curdling scream._

My eyes shot open and I sat up in bed, my breathing labored. The nightmares had come back. I guessed that where I was taking the pain medication before, it had messed with my sleeping patterns and prevented me from having the dreaded nightmares. Now that I was off the pain pills, the horrifying dreams were once again plaguing me in sleep.

"Sarah?" Someone asked from beside me and I flinched, the fear I had felt in my dream returning momentarily. I whipped my head around to see Dean propped up beside me in the bed, a questioning look on his face. Past him Sam lay asleep on the other bed, and I was able to see the steady rise and fall of his chest. "Are you okay?" Dean asked.

I sighed, "Yeah, just a nightmare." I explained, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index fingers.

Dean sat up in bed beside me. "About your mom?" He asked, and I nodded with my head underneath my hand.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked, and I shook my head. "Wanna talk about anything?" I looked up at him.

"Like what?" I asked, scooting against the bed frame to prop myself up. Dean followed suit.

"Well," He looked up at the ceiling. "Tell me about your mom, what she was like," He said. "It might help."

I smiled then, thinking about my mom while she was still living made me happy. If I didn't think about the last time that I saw her it was almost as if she was still out there somewhere, enjoying her life.

"She was kind, and loving, and she was always there for me." I started, and I closed my eyes as fond memories of my mom made their way into my mind. "She may have been a single mom, but she did a heck of a good job at it." I finished. I opened my eyes and turned to Dean to find that he was smiling too, his head tipped up towards the ceiling. A thought occurred to me.

"Hey Dean?" I asked, and he looked down at me.

"Yeah?"

"Whatever happened to your—our dad?" I corrected. His face fell, and his eyes returned to the ceiling.

"He," He hesitated in answering; "he died a while ago, Sarah." I took in a breath.

"I'm so sorry Dean." I consoled.

"It's okay now." He said, and then turned to look at me, his face composed again. "Have you had enough kissy-lovey-dovey crap for one night?" He asked, sliding back down onto the pillow.

"Yeah," I said, a little hesitant. _What if the dreams came back?_

"Hey, come here," Dean said, patting the crook in his shoulder next to me. "You'll be okay when you're with me," He said, "I promise."

I scooted down and placed my head against Dean's shoulder, and the warmth that radiated off him began to make me feel drowsy. Within minutes we were both fast asleep, and I floated into a beautiful dreamless place.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think? Like or dislike? Please Review!


	8. Julia's Playmate

Well, here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy! I will have a longer author's note at the bottom explaining one of the reviews from the last chapter, so just a warning!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

The next day, we found the address of Julia's grandparents' house and made our way to the quaint one-story brick home. I was wearing a professional dress suit, and the boys had on business attire. We were going to be posing as social services, there to collect a final statement from the family.

We pulled up on the curb and Dean shut off the Impala, then we all climbed out of the car and made our way up the sidewalk to the house. When we reached the front porch, Dean went first and rang the doorbell.

A few moments later the door opened, and an older looking man stood in front of us.

"Can I help you?" He asked.

"Yes sir," Dean said, reaching into the pocket of his suit to grab his fake ID. He held it up so that the man could see it. "We're here from social services; we would like to ask you a few questions about your daughter and her husband." Dean finished, and the man looked confused.

"We already gave a statement to the police." He said, "What else could you want to know?"

"We have to have a separate interview on file as well," Sam commented. "Please, if you don't mind, it'll only take a minute."

The man seemed to contemplate for a moment, but then nodded, "Very well," he said, holding the door open for us. "Come in."

We walked into a small living room, and the man gestured that we sit down on some of the seats that were arranged around the space. The older man shut the front door behind us, and suddenly a voice could be heard from another part of the house.

"Charles, who was it?" A feminine voice called as Sam, Dean and I planted ourselves on a large plush couch.

"Some folks from social services!" Charles shouted back, and then turned to us. "That's my wife Elizabeth." He explained. A few seconds later, an elderly woman poked her head around the corner.

"What do you all need?" She asked politely.

"We just needed to ask you and your husband a few questions, ma'am." I replied, smiling up at her. She returned the gesture warmly.

"Ask whatever you like," She said as she walked over to sit down next to her husband, who was sat on a love seat opposite us. "Just please make it quick, Julia has dance practice in half an hour."

"Of course, ma'am." Sam responded. "So," he started, "what do you know about what happened to Joseph and Susan?"

The couple glanced at each other, and then Elizabeth turned back to us.

"We'll tell you what we told the police," She started. "We can't really say what happened honestly. Everyone thinks that Julia is the only logical suspect, but that can't be possible."

"Why's that?" Dean asked, leaning forward on the couch.

"Because they were found in the attic the next morning. Julia's just a little girl, she couldn't have possibly pulled them both up there. And why would a little girl do something like that in the first place?" Elizabeth explained. "Julia loved her mom and dad."

Charles had taken his wife's hand while she spoke and was stroking it gingerly between his hands. I looked over at Sam and Dean, and I could tell that we were all thinking the same thing: something wasn't right here.

A soft thud could be heard from down a hallway on the left side of the room, and the elderly couple looked up.

"Julia?" Charles called, but no one answered. He started to stand up, but I pulled myself off the couch before he could fully rise out of the chair.

"May I?" I asked cautiously, gesturing towards the hall. The couple exchanged a nervous glance, and then Elizabeth turned and nodded at me. I made my way past the boys and into the hallway, glancing into the first door on the left.

In it sat a little girl with dark brown hair. She was trying to pick up several books that had fallen from a shelf on the far wall. I made my way into the room, stepping around several dolls and a pretend tea set to get to the other side of the room.

"Here," I said, and she looked up at me, her eyes wide. "Let me help." I bent down to grab the few remaining books on the floor, and then placed them back on the shelf.

"Thanks," She said quietly and walked over to the middle of the floor where her dolls were, sitting down cross-legged on the carpet.

I walked over in front of her and also sat down, folding my knees under me. "Julia, my name is Sarah." I said, but she seemed to be ignoring me. I looked around me, trying to find something to get the little girl to talk to me. I saw one of the dolls resting on the floor and picked it up, examining its brunette ringlet curls and beautiful pink dress.

"I used to have a doll just like this." I said, and glanced down at her. She was blinking up at me through dark eyelashes. "Her name was Molly. What is her name?" I said, holding the doll out to Julia.

The ice broke between us. "Her name is Sophie," Julia said, taking the doll from my hands and stroking its hair, "but my favorite is Amelia," She continued, placing the doll on the floor and picking another one up. It had straight blonde hair and a scarlet dress. "because she looks like my friend." She said, pulling the folds in the doll's dress straight.

"She's very beautiful." I continued. "Does your friend like to play with dolls too?" I asked, and Julia's face fell.

"She did," Julia started, "but she didn't want to anymore after daddy said that we were moving."

That sparked my interest. "Out of your old house?" I asked curiously. Julia nodded. "Why didn't your friend want to play with dolls anymore?"

"She said that if I went away, then she would go away too." Julia explained, looking down at the doll in her hands. "She said that she wanted me to stay with her."

"What was her name, Julia?" I asked. I was worried.

Julia looked up at me. "Lucy."

* * *

A/N: Alright, so someone reviewed and mentioned that Dean seemed out of character in the last chapter, and first of all thank you, because it made me think about it a lot, but second of all, I wanted to point out why exactly he had acted like that.

1. It's really late at night in the chapter, which would explain why Dean would be a little softer around the edges.

2. Sarah is having nightmares about losing her mom, and Dean knows all too well what that is like. So I would think that he would try to do anything to make it less painful on Sarah, such as comforting her in that way.

Other than that, what did you think of the chapter? I did leave it on a big cliffhanger, didn't I? Please review, favorite, and follow! I'll see you on Monday!


	9. Haunted House

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

"So this girl Lucy is really what's causing all of this crap?" Dean asked as we walked back to the Impala.

"Julia said that Lucy began acting up after her dad started talking about moving out." I explained. "She's been seeing her in the house, playing with her, even."

"Seems like the little girl just wants a friend." Sam commented as we reached the car. I climbed into the back seat and pulled my hair out of the tight bun that I had worn into the house.

"Yeah," Dean said as he opened the driver's side door. "and if she can't have one she kills their parents." He slid into the seat, "Sounds like a real sweetheart."

"You think that's what happened to the Moore's too?" I asked as Dean started the car, and we pulled onto the street.

"Seems the most likely," Sam said, "but we need more details about the history of the house to be sure."

"Why don't you see what you can find at the library and me and Sarah can check out the house?" Dean asked, and Sam shrugged a yes in reply.

* * *

After we had made a quick run back to the motel to change clothes, Dean and I dropped Sam off at the local library and made our way to the Smiths house. It was located on a small driveway behind a patch of forest, and was situated on the outskirts of town. The sky was already darkening, making the evening seem even more eerie.

We pulled up to the big two-story home, and after Dean switched off the Impala we walked around to the trunk. Dean propped it open as I reached in and grabbed the sawed-off that fired rock salt and a few flashlights. I tossed him the gun and one of the flashlights, and then shut the trunk.

"Why were the Smiths going to move out of the house?" I asked Dean as we walked up the main path towards the door. "Did the grandparents say?"

"They were moving into a larger city for Joseph's work." Dean explained. "After the couple died in the house, Charles said that the plans were to sell it again. But it's currently vacant."

We reached the door then, and I pulled a lock pick out of my jacket pocket and carefully maneuvered it into the lock on the front door. After a few moments of trying to find the right combination, the door clicked open and I stood up to enter the house.

Inside the front door seemed to be the family living room. It was devoid of furniture, probably moved out after Susan and Joseph died. I tried a light switch by the door, but the power must have been cut off after the murders. I switched on my flashlight, and Dean did the same. Off to one side of the room was a set of stairs leading to the second floor, so I made my way over to them.

"I'll check up here," I said, turning to Dean. He nodded and continued looking around the first floor while I made my way up the stairs.

When I reached the second landing, I stopped and looked around. To the left of the staircase was a balcony that looked out on the floor below and straight ahead of me was a small hallway. I walked down the hall and stopped at the first of two doors, slowly turning the knob and opening the door. Inside the room was empty but the walls were still painted a pastel pink color, so I assumed that the room had been Julia's before the murders.

After searching the room for anything suspicious and finding nothing, I left and continued down the hall. The next door led to a bathroom, but I didn't waste any time searching in there.

That was only one other door at the end of the hallway. I tested the knob, and the door swung open with a loud creak. I pointed my flashlight forward into the dark, and found a small set of stairs. Surely they led to the attic, so I walked forward into the space.

As I climbed the stairs to the attic, I realized just how difficult it would be for a little girl to drag two bodies all the way up from the master bedroom on the first floor. For a ghost, however, it was a different story. They seemed to always be much stronger than humans, even if it only was a ghost of a little girl.

I entered into a small room. Scattered around were several boxes and some sparse furniture that had probably been left behind when the house was cleared out. I walked over to one of the boxes that were already open, only to find several dolls packed inside.

I crouched down and picked one up to examine it, but something seemed off about it. The rest of the boxes in the attic had a fine layer of dust covering them, but the doll seemed clean and dust-free. That didn't make sense. The box it had been in was open, and surely it would have had a covering of dust too. But that wasn't the case. She was handled recently, maybe even played with. But by who?

As I was crouched down next to the box, I suddenly heard soft footsteps coming up behind me. As fast as I could manage, I tossed the doll back into the box and spun around, jumping to my feet. My eyes widened.

In front of me stood a little girl. She had blonde ringlet curls, and was wearing a deep red dress. She looked just like Julia's doll.

"Lucy." I said.

* * *

Back downstairs, Dean was searching through the empty kitchen when his phone rang. He tucked the gun under his arm and plucked the phone from his pocket, looking at the ID before flipping it open and holding it up to his ear.

"Did you find anything?" He asked his brother.

"Sarah was right," Sam explained, "I found the statement taken from Tabitha Moore after her parents died in the 60s. She said that they were about to move out of the house when her friend Lucy started acting up. This girl is the center of all the murders." He finished.

"Did you find where she's buried?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "In the town cemetery. It's a few blocks from the library, actually."

"Good," Dean said, turning to leave the kitchen, "Let's burn her bones before she gets the chance to attack anyone else. I'll get Sarah and we'll meet you over there." Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming could be heard upstairs. Dean pulled the phone away from his ear.

"Sarah!" He called, but no one answered, "Hang on Sam," He said into the receiver of the phone, and then rushed up the stairs. He ran down the hallway, pausing only to test the doors. The first of the two opened effortlessly, but the third wouldn't budge, even when he tried kicking it open.

"Sarah!" Dean yelled, pounding on the door. Still getting no response, he put the phone back up to his ear. "Change of plans, burn her out now!" He said. "Hurry!"

Sam quickly agreed and then hung up. Dean thrust the phone back into his pocket, and then continued to pound on the attic door.

* * *

A/N: So what do you think is going to happen? I'm really enjoying leaving these on cliffhangers, I think it makes the story more interesting. So please review!

Also, I need a few ideas for cases. I want to make the story a little bit longer than I already have it planned to be, so please suggest ideas for me!


	10. Broken Glass

This is the last chapter in the first case, and let me just say, thank you all for your support and everything! I never would have thought that this story would get so much response, and it's made my day to see how many people are interested in it!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

I listened to Dean beat on the door, but didn't answer back. Lucy was walking slowly towards me, her eyes colder than a little girls should be.

"Don't talk to him," She said, "you should play with me."

I backed up until I hit the wall of the attic. "Lucy, listen to me," I started, my voice threatening to give out on me. "You're sick. You need to move on." Her face became angry.

"I just want someone to play with me!" She yelled, stomping her foot on the wooden floor.

"Is that why you killed the other girls' parents?" I asked, feeling a bit braver. She was just a little girl, and maybe if I reprimanded her like one it would make her stop. I pushed myself off the wall and started to walk towards her. "Is that why you killed _your_ parents?"

"They were going to leave me!" Lucy yelled. "Then I would go away until someone else came to play! I didn't want to go!"

"It's not right for you to be here Lucy," I explained. "You need to pass on."

"No!" She screeched, and I flew back and crashed into a stack of boxes. Lucy was stronger than I gave her credit for. I pushed myself off of the crushed cardboard into a sitting position just as Lucy walked up to me.

"I'll play with you." I said, trying to distract her. Her eyes seemed to turn soft in a instant.

"You would?" She asked sweetly. I nodded. She turned and ran over to where the box full of dolls was set as I pulled myself up out of the boxes, examining myself for injuries. I didn't find any, though I would probably have quite a few bruises later on. I walked over to where Lucy had spread a few dolls on the floor and she handed one up to me.

"Here," She said, "You take this one, and we can play." I put a fake smile on as I sat opposite her, trying to hide my fear. I had seen how quickly she could turn from sweet to terrifying. Dean pounded on the door again, and I turned to glance at the stairway. When I looked back, Lucy was glaring at me.

"Tell him to stop." She said menacingly. I turned back towards the stairs.

"Dean, I'm okay!" I yelled, and the pounding stopped. "Stop beating the door down!"

"Tell him we're just playing." Lucy said in the same tone.

"Lucy and I are just playing dolls!" I called again, hoping that he would find some way to take care of the little girl before she turned dark again.

"Sam just called!" Dean yelled as I turned back towards Lucy. Her eyes were now focused on the stairs. "He's almost done at the cemetery!"

"What does that mean?" Lucy asked, her focus returning to me.

Uh oh. I tried to think up an excuse. "He went to visit a friend who passed away." I lied, and Lucy's eyes narrowed.

"Are you telling the truth?" She asked, slowly sitting the doll down on the floor and standing up. I did the same, hastily looking around for something that I could use as a weapon against the spirit. I didn't see anything that would be of use to me.

"Yes, of course." I said quickly. Too quickly.

"You're lying!" Lucy yelled, thrusting her hand forward and sending me flying back into a large mirror that was propped up against the wall. Glass shattered all around me, and I felt warmth start to spread on several parts of my body. I dropped to the floor as Lucy stalked over.

"You're going to leave me too!" She yelled, and my body pressed harder against the broken mirror, my head tilting back against the frame.

"Dammit Dean!" I yelled, and Dean started beating and kicking the door again. Lucy was so much stronger than any ghost I'd ever seen mom hunt; how could she control me _and_ hold the door shut at the same time?

In my peripheral vision, I saw Lucy bend over and pick up one of the larger shards of glass, then she stepped over my pinned down legs and positioned herself above my neck.

"You will never leave me again." She said, and pressed the broken glass to my throat. I grunted as the sharp tip pierced my skin. She started dragging it across my neck, and I felt hot liquid begin to drip down from the wound. But when she was about a quarter of the way across my neck, she pulled back suddenly and I felt her control on me loosen.

I slumped down from the mirror onto the floor and vaguely heard Dean finally kick the door open, but my main focus was on Lucy. She had dropped the shard of glass, and was taking stuttering breaths as she looked down at her hands. They appeared to be disintegrating into ashes, and the rest of her body was following swiftly behind. She let out a shriek right as her face dissolved, and then she disappeared into nonexistence.

Dean lurched into the small space and paused to see the newly created pile of ashes on the floor, but then he rushed over to help me up as I tried to pull myself off of the broken mirror. I felt a little uneasy on my feet, so I let him help me down the attic steps and out of the house.

* * *

Later that night after the boys had helped take care of my wounds, we were all sitting in the hotel room talking about the case.

"You finished just in time, Sam," I said. "I was about to be dead meat."

"Where was Dean at?" He asked, and Dean turned to look at me. I gave a short chuckle.

"Trying to break down the door." I explained. It _was_ a little funny when I thought about it. Sam laughed, but Dean just pouted and took a swig of his beer.

"So what do we do now?" I asked. It seemed so quiet once the case was over. I didn't like it, I wanted to be up on my feet, not sitting in a motel room.

"We wait for the next hunt to come around." Sam answered. "It could be a while, though." I frowned.

"What's the matter sis?" Dean asked, seeing my face. "So eager to get back into the fray?" He asked sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I just get bored easily." I stated. In reality, I enjoyed hunting because it took my mind off of my mom. I didn't have to think about what happened to her when I could be out hunting the things that went bump in the night.

* * *

After Sarah went to bed, Sam and Dean stayed up to finish watching a football game on the small television in the room. Suddenly Sarah flinched in her sleep, causing the boys to turn their attention to her.

"Is she still having nightmares?" Sam asked, turning to look at the face of his sister, which was scrunched up at whatever she was seeing in her sleep.

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "It helps when someone's with her, but they still come every so often." He had seen the worst of Sarah's nightmares, and he knew how she felt.

"If you burned those bones any later she wouldn't have made it." Dean pointed out. "I couldn't break the door down, and that ghost was about to slit her throat."

"She knows what she's getting into," Sam reminded him. "She's not new to any of this, Dean."

"I know." Dean said. "I'm just afraid that one day she might get herself into something we can't fish her out of."

* * *

A/N: Alright, so what do you think of the first case? Please review, follow and favorite! Also, I am still on the lookout for any new ideas for cases, so if you have anything in particular that you would like to see, please suggest it to me!


	11. Camp Blue Ridge

Hey guys! I hope that you're ready for the next case, because it's a very exciting one! This chapter in particular was one of my favorites, in part just because of the dialogue in it. I hope you all feel the same!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

A few weeks after the Lucy White case, we were sitting in an old-fashioned diner in the southern part of Tennessee. We had crisscrossed the country since the ghost hunt in Wyoming, but we didn't have any luck searching for a new lead on a hunt. We had decided to take a break from looking for a while, so we were resting for the time being.

Sam was reading a local newspaper while Dean munched down on a piece of pie and I sipped on a chocolate milkshake. Everything seemed pretty relaxing, but then Sam jumped in.

"Hey," He said, turning the newspaper to face us. "look at this,"

I looked down at the main headline on the paper: **TWO CAMP WORKERS KILLED IN FREAK ACCIDENT**

"What kind of freak accident?" I asked, pulling away from my milkshake.

"Both of the victims were working as lifeguards at the camp pool that day, and all of a sudden some of the kids said that they saw a giant tentacle reach out of the water and pull them both down to the bottom." Sam explained.

"So what are we dealing with here" Dean inquired, "Giant squid?"

"No," Sam said, ignoring his brother's sarcastic comment, "They drained the pool to get to the bodies. There wasn't anything down there."

"And the campers are sure that they saw something grab them?" I asked. Younger kids did seem to have a wilder imagination, especially after something traumatic happened to them.

"Twenty plus campers were swimming in the pool at the time of the accident, plus another lifeguard who was stationed on the other side of the water testified the same story as the kids." Sam explained, skimming the article and picking out the important information.

"You really think this is up our alley?" Dean asked, scraping the last of the pie off his plate.

"I think it's worth checking out," Sam stated, folding the newspaper closed.

* * *

About an hour later, we pulled into a gravel parking lot with a sign out front that read: _Camp Blue Ridge Staff Parking._

Dean turned off the Impala and we all climbed out, making our way over to where the official camp grounds began. At the end of a small path through the trees, the forest opened up into a wide clearing surrounded by many small buildings. One, which stood directly to the right of the path we were walking up, had a sign beside the door that read: _Camp Office_. We made our way up to the building and Dean opened the door, the sound of a bell marking our entrance.

Upon entering, a small lady with a blonde ponytail emerged from a back room and moved to behind the desk. She smiled when she saw us.

"Can I help you?" She asked in a peppy voice.

"Uh, yeah," Sam started, walking forwards, "We were looking to apply for jobs at the camp."

The lady's smile turned sad, "I bet you heard about the pool incident," She mused. "Thanks for offering your help, but we can manage just fine."

"What about just for a couple of days?" I asked, "I'm sure that it would be better for the kids if there were more adults around so soon after the accident."

Her face looked conflicted, and I realized that I had struck a valid point. After a moment, she looked up.

"I guess that you could help out for a couple of days," She said. "but I'll need you all to fill out a form first."

"That's fine," I said, and the lady started digging around behind the desk. "I'm Sarah, by the way, and these are my brothers Dean and Sam."

"Nice to meet you all." She said, "I'm Stacy. I run the office." She laid a few papers in front of us, and then handed us some pens. I started filling my form out, glancing over at Sam's paper to see what fake last name we were going by. I hated lying about it, but then again it was better if no one had a way to trace us when we were gone.

"Unfortunately, we only have two positions open right now, so one of you will have to be on the kitchen staff." Stacy explained, and the boys and I exchanged glances. I could tell we were all about to fight over who had to take that job.

"One is as a girl's counselor," She said, and I smiled thankfully. At least I wasn't going to be working in the kitchen. Stacy sighed, "That was Tammy's position." I assumed that was one of the workers who had died.

"I'm sorry," I consoled. She shook her head slightly, regaining her composure.

"It's okay," She said, then looked over at the paper. "The other position is the activities director. That was Mark's job."

"I'll take it," Dean said before Sam could get a word in. Sam turned to glare at his brother, but Dean just grinned back at him.

"Okay then," Stacy mused, "It looks like you're on kitchen duty then." She said to Sam, who just sighed in defeat.

A few minutes later after Stacy had gotten us some official camp uniforms, I stood in the front of the camp office in a green polo t shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. I had changed out of my hunting boots as well, into a pair of white tennis shoes. I felt very out of place in my new attire.

Dean had already changed into a uniform similar to mine, and was standing next to me while we waited for Sam. Suddenly, Sam walked out of the back room wearing a pair of baggy white scrubs. I took one glance at him and burst out laughing, and Dean tried to mask a snort.

"Shut up," He said, making a face at us. I tried to compose myself as Stacy came back into the room holding a few pieces of paper.

"Okay Sarah," She said, turning to me. "The campers are all in their cabins preparing for lunch hour right now, so you can go on to your cabin to meet them. You're in number Eight with Blair." She explained. "Everything you should need for the next few days should already be in your cabin."

She handed me one of the papers then, and I looked down to see that it was a map of the camp.

"Thanks for letting us help out and all." I said to the girl.

"No problem," She replied, smiling at me, "I think that what you said was right; the kids do need more leaders around right now."

She turned to Dean and Sam then, handing them both maps. "Dean, you'll be up in the gym working with Tim. He's the other activities director." Dean nodded in reply.

"Sam, you can go on over to the Mess Hall and get acquainted with everyone. If you need anything just try to find Donna, she's the head chef." Stacy explained. "Thank you all again for volunteering."

"You're welcome," I said as we turned to walk out the office.

Once outside, I looked at Sam again and snickered at his ridiculous attire.

"This was the only size they had, okay?" He said, agitated.

"Dude," Dean started, "You look like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man."

Which in turn started a new bout of laughter, but this time it came from all three of us.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think? What could the monster in this case be? Any ideas yet? Please review, follow and favorite, as always!

Also, please please _please_ suggest me more cases, because I still need about two in the next half of the story and I haven't been able to come up with them yet. So if there is _anything _at all that you would like to see, please tell me!


	12. Cabin Eight

Hey guys! I hope that you're enjoying the case so far! I wanted to thank you all who reviewed the last chapter and gave me suggestions, they were well needed and I am taking them into consideration. A few people did ask questions, so I'm going to wait until the bottom of this chapter to answer them. Until then, please enjoy the chapter!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

I followed my map around the right side of the courtyard, and veered off into the forest when I found the path to the girls' cabins. My small duffle bag swung behind me; before starting to the cabin the boys and I had returned to the Impala to grab a few necessities.

After a short trek through the woods, I came upon two rows of cabins and a small bath house off to the right side. Glancing at the numbers next to the doors, I made my way to the back row where Cabin 8 was. I climbed up a short set of steps and opened a screen door to get into the cabin.

Inside, I was met with the sight of many middle and high school girls who were either lying on bunk beds or sitting in a small commons at the front of the cabin. Some looked up at me when I entered, but others didn't seem to notice me at all, and continued to have conversations with each other. I smiled at the ones who had their eyes fixed on me. Another older girl stood up from a chair in the sitting area and made her way over to me. She had long dark hair and brown eyes, and stood a little shorter than me.

"Hey," She said, "What can I do for you?"

"My name's Sarah," I said, "I'm filling in as counselor for a few days,"

Her grin widened. "Awesome!" She mused, and then turned to face the rest of the cabin. "Girls, listen up!" She called, and all conversations died down, "This is Sarah, she's our new big sister for a bit!" The girl turned back to me, her hand extended. I took it and she gave a firm shake. "I'm Blair, I'm the cabin counselor." She introduced.

"Nice to meet you," I said, and then Blair directed me over to the sitting area. I set my duffel bag down next to me as I sat down on a big recliner, the worn fabric seeming to swallow me. Blair sat on another chair next to me, turning to grab a candy bar that she had set down in the chair when she walked over to meet me. She took a bite, and then glanced at her watch.

"Well, we have to leave for lunch in a few minutes, but there's still a little more time to get to know each other," She said, smiling. "So Sarah, what brings you here?"

"Actually, I heard about the accident and wanted to volunteer help." I explained, surprised that I didn't have to lie about it for once.

Blair's face fell. "Yeah, it was pretty bad." She said, "Mark and Tammy were good people."

"I'd say that they were." I stated. "It's a shame the way they went too. I heard that they were pulled into the pool by something. But that can't be possible, can it?"

Blair didn't respond for a second, but then shook her head. "No, there's no way. They must have fallen in on accident."

"But weren't they both licensed lifeguards?" I asked, wondering why she would say something like that.

"Yeah, but sea monsters in a pool?" She asked, shaking her head. "That's outrageous. But you know what's worse?" She asked in a quieter voice.

"What?" I inquired, and she leaned forward in her seat. I did the same.

"I heard that there was something going on between the two on them before they died." She explained, and I tilted my head in confusion. She continued, explaining, "Mark already had a girlfriend at the time."

I leaned back in my chair, contemplating. Had the thing that attacked the counselors done it because they were unfaithful?

"Here," Blair said, changing the subject. She stood up. "Let me show you where your bed is." I struggled to pull myself out of the large recliner, and then followed her to the back of the cabin, swerving to avoid campers and crowded bunk beds alike.

Blair led me to two twin beds pushed up against the wall. One already had a colorful quilt thrown over it, but the other bed was bare aside from a pillow and a folded quilt and sheet set at the end of the bed. I assumed that it was mine for the next few days. Above the bed was a small shelf, upon which was stacked a few towels and washcloths.

I went over to the bed and slung my bag off of my shoulder. I pushed my duffel underneath the frame and started to make the bed, looking up at Blair as she laid back on her's. She had pulled out a magazine of sorts and was flipping through the pages at a rather fast pace. I glanced at the front cover, thinking I saw some kind of sea creature, but then Blair folded the magazine back on itself and I turned my focus back to the bed in front of me. When I was done I sat down on the bed, propping my feet up on the rather hard mattress.

We sat in silence until Blair looked down at her watch again and suddenly jumped up.

"Time for lunch!" She called throughout the cabin.

* * *

I got my tray from the food line in the Mess Hall and made my way over to the counselors table on the far side of the room, where Dean was already sitting with a tray full of food. I placed myself next to him.

"You know, this camp food is amazing," He pointed out, twirling a bite of spaghetti around his fork.

"Yeah," I said, "I went to camp one year when I was younger, and that's one of the things I remember most about it."

As I was going for my first bite, Sam walked over and sat down opposite us.

"How're you liking the kitchen Sandra Lee?" Dean asked, and Sam shook his head.

"It's actually not so bad," He pointed out. "I'm on break right now. What about you two?"

"I get to help out with the organized games." Dean said, seemingly proud that he remembered the correct term.

"So you get to push little kids around?" I corrected. Dean just shrugged, and Sam chuckled in agreement. I turned to him. "I'm in charge of about twenty girls in my cabin," I said, "but I don't think it'll be too hard to handle."

"Did you find anything out about the case?" Sam asked more quietly. I remembered what Blair had told me back in the cabin.

"The other counselor in my cabin said that she thought the two were together while Mark already had a girlfriend." I explained. "You think it might be going after people who have secrets?"

"Maybe," Sam said.

"You think that maybe they're just putting hallucinogenics in the food?" Dean asked, warily eyeing his tray.

"I don't know," Sam said, "but I don't want to leave until whatever it is has been sorted out."

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think? Please review, favorite and follow! Also, I'll ask again, if you have a case that you want to see, please tell me!

Now for the questions! From now on, if I do have any questions (or reviews that I feel need to be answered of given an explanation) in the reviews, I'll address them at the bottom of the next published chapter.

_Fire and Ash:_

_Good chapter! I hope you update soon. CX__  
__(P.S. I was just wondering if Adam's gonna be in it, or is Sarah his replacement? And are you gonna continue making up cases, or will it start to follow the timeline of Supernatural?)_

-Adam is not going to be in this story, but Sarah isn't his replacement either. Honestly, I'm only on season four of the series, so I haven't even met Adam yet. But he never really had a part that related to the main plot of the story, so I didn't intend on adding him in. Sorry if that's a disappointment. I will continue creating the cases for this story; as I said before, I haven't watched the whole series yet so I feel that I wouldn't be able to depict it accurately. Plus I'm just a lazy bum who doesn't want to go back through and watch the entire series again to write it out. I also feel that when a story is written like this it gives more originality to the story overall, instead of just adding to an existing story line. I hope I answered your question!

_caz21:_

_What about nightmare case. Sarah could have a nightmare. A nightmare is believed to be an evil spirit that can suffocate or haunt people during sleep. I just looked it up. Great story by the way._

-You probably won't believe this, but I actually have something along the lines of this planned as another case in the story already. It's not exactly like this, I have to warn you, but it does kind of relate to another case. I won't give out any specific details though, you'll have to find out yourself! And thank you for asking!

Other than that, I believe that's all for this week! Thank you for reading, and I'll see you Monday!


	13. Dodgeballs and Goblins

Once again, thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

After lunch, the girls in my cabin made their way up to the gym for a recreation period. Blair and I followed behind the girls on the small path.

"So is there a story as to why you're here?" I asked Blair.

"Not really," She said, "I just enjoy being with the campers. I've been volunteering for a while now."

We walked on in silence until we reached the gym; a relatively new building compared to the rest of the camp. We all walked through a set of double doors that led into the open space from outside. From the far side of the gym I saw Dean standing by a bag full of dodge balls, and I sent him a wave when he looked up at me.

The kids separated into teams and began playing, but I noticed that one of the girls from my cabin was sitting off to the side, away from everyone else. I made my way over to her, not wanting her to feel left out.

"Hey," I said, sitting down on the floor beside her and propping myself up against the wall. "I'm Sarah, what's your name?"

"Lisa," She stated quietly.

"Why are you all by yourself?" I asked, looking over to where Dean seemed to be taking practice throws at the campers. "Don't you want to play?"

"I'm not really good at games." She said, and I nodded.

"Are you having fun at camp?" I inquired.

Lisa shrugged. "I guess," She said, "but ever since those two counselors died it seems different around here." She explained.

"Different how?" I asked.

"Like something's watching." She said, fear glinting in her eyes. She turned and looked towards the other campers, and I did the same. I saw Blair where she was sitting further down the wall on a bench. She was looking in mine and Lisa's direction, but when we made eye contact her gaze flickered away.

* * *

That evening at dinner, the boys and I found ourselves in the same spot at the staff table where we had eaten lunch.

"So did you find anything out?" Dean asked after taking a bite of the meatloaf that had been served for dinner.

"Not me," Sam said, "I talked to some of the other workers, and they didn't know what could've caused the two counselors' deaths." He explained. "They all agreed that something had to have happened to them though."

"I have no idea what we're searching for here," I said, dumbfounded. All of a sudden laughter came from down the table, and we turned to see a few of the other counselors, Blair among them, giggling at something that I must have missed. One of the counselors, a blonde girl, glanced in our direction. She smiled at something past me, and I turned to see Dean grinning seductively back at her. I punched him in the arm, and he flinched, looking back at me.

"We're at a camp, Dean!" I hissed.

"Hey," He started, "A smile's not going to do any harm."

"For you it might." Sam commented, and Dean turned to roll his eyes at his brother, "But anyways, back to the case. I say we meet back at the car tonight." He suggested. "We might be able to find something by then."

"And if we don't?" I asked.

Sam shook his head, "I don't know."

* * *

Our cabin was scheduled to have a campfire in the woods surrounding the camp that night, and as the sun set we made our way to the designated area, packing lots of blankets to sit on. After we had spread out the blankets, Blair and I worked for a good few minutes to get the fire started, then situated ourselves around the pit with the campers.

Almost immediately, Blair jumped into telling a scary story. The light of the flickering campfire only succeeded in making the tall tale even eerier. About halfway through a story about a goblin that lived in the woods surrounding the camp and ate the raw flesh of kidnapped campers, I saw one of the girls jump up from the opposite side of the fire.

The figure walked around the pit to where Blair and I were sitting and leaned down next to me. As the light from the fire caught her face, I realized it was Lisa.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I need to use the bathroom." Lisa said quietly. I nodded and stood up. Blair looked up at me, a question on her face.

"Bathroom run." I explained, and she nodded. I reached down to grab one of the flashlights that we had brought along with us, and Lisa and I started to make our way back towards the camp. I flicked the light on when the campfire got too far away for us to see where we were going.

I glanced over at Lisa, who had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. It was a chippy night, I had to admit, but the way she was gripping her arms didn't seem to be the cause of the temperature.

"What's really bothering you?" I asked, and she glanced over at me, the same fear from earlier showing in her eyes.

"It's that feeling again," She said, "like something's watching."

I stopped on the path and Lisa did the same, turning to face me. I reached out to hold onto her shoulder with the hand not grasping the flashlight, and found she was slightly shaking under my hand.

"I promise you that if there is anything out there, I'll stop it." I said with conviction. "I won't let anything hurt you."

"What if it's not something?" She said, her voice cracking. "What if it's someone?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Earlier when we were in gym," Lisa explained, "did you see how Blair was looking at us?" She asked. My eyes squinted in confusion.

"You think Blair's going to hurt you?" I questioned. Blair did seem a little odd at times, but she certainly didn't give off the whole 'serial killer' vibe to me.

"No," Lisa said quickly, "but the way she looked at me, and you too, it was like she thought we knew something."

I thought back to the evening and realized that Lisa had a point. Blair _had _looked at us very strangely. I was about to reassure Lisa again when I heard a twig snap in the forest around us. Lisa heard it as well, and she jumped slightly under my grasp. I released her and spun around, angling the flashlight where I thought the noise had come from, but there was nothing but trees in front of me.

I grabbed Lisa's arm and started leading her on through the forest, back towards the main part of camp.

"Stay behind me." I said, shining the ray of light around us into the dark woods. Suddenly the cracking noise came again, but this time closer to the two of us. I began to run, but as I did Lisa's arm slipped out of my grip and she lagged behind me. I continued on a few steps of momentum, thinking that Lisa would catch up, but suddenly, I heard her scream.

I whipped around to see Lisa on the forest floor, being dragged away into the thick wood. I dashed after her and her unknown assailant, trying to reach her before the thing had a chance to hurt her.

Whatever had taken Lisa was going more slowly because of her added weight, so in a few seconds I was at Lisa's side. I gripped her tightly under her arms and tugged as hard as I could. After a terse game of tug of war with whatever had scared us, Lisa collapsed back into my arms and we both landed hard on the ground. I quickly pointed the flashlight ahead of us, hoping to see what had tried to take Lisa.

Just for a second, I was able to see a short, stocky body that had large ears and skin the color of the surrounding forest. If I didn't know any better, I would say it was a goblin. The figure was only there for a second, and then it suddenly vanished into thin air.

* * *

A/N: So what did you think? Any clues as to what it could be? Please review, favorite and follow, as always!


	14. The Only Logical Suspect

So, what do you think of the story so far? Please tell me how you're reacting to it!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

"Lisa, look at me," I said to the sobbing girl in front of me. After I had rescued Lisa from whatever was in the forest, I had helped her back to the camp. We were currently beside the Impala in the staff parking lot waiting for Sam and Dean. Lisa had started crying the moment we had made it to the car and she could comprehend what had happened.

She raised her eyes to mine; her face was drenched in tears and the area around her eyes was puffy and red.

"It's okay," I said, raising my hands to hold her face. "It's okay. It's all over now, and you're safe." I reassured. She nodded in little jerks and took a deep breath.

"Good." I said, nodding slowly. The last thing I needed was a passed-out teenager. "You want to sit down?" I asked, and in reply she slipped down against the side of the car, hugging her knees to her chest.

I turned and saw two figures walking towards us in the parking lot. My body automatically tensed up, but then the light from an overhead street light in the lot caught their faces and I sighed in relief; it was only Dean and Sam.

They were making their way slowly across the parking lot, but when they saw I wasn't alone they walked faster towards the car.

"What happened?" Dean asked as Sam walked over to Lisa and crouched down next to her. "Are you okay?" He asked her quietly, and she nodded.

"You won't believe me." I said, and it was probably true.

"There are a lot of things out there that people don't believe in," Dean started, "and you know they're real. What did you see?"

"We got attacked in the woods," I explained, "by a goblin."

"A what?" Sam said, standing up and walking over to where Dean and I stood by the trunk of the car.

"It's what I saw," I replied, "I'm sure of it."

Dean leaned up against the trunk, his head tilted back. "What are we even up against here?"

"That's not even the weirdest part," I said, "After I pulled Lisa away from it, it just vanished." Sam looked down at me, his eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.

"Vanished." He repeated.

"Into thin air." I finished. He and Dean exchanged a glance.

"Was there anything else?" Dean asked, and I was about to say no when Lisa spoke up.

"The story." She said, and we all turned to her.

"What?" I asked.

"The story at the campfire." She explained. "It was about a goblin."

I didn't know what to think. Surely that couldn't be a coincidence, but I still had no idea what exactly was causing everything to happen.

"I think I know what it is." Sam said, breaking the silence.

"Please tell," I said, desperate for answers.

"Actually, I don't know why we didn't figure it out before." He stated, "It sounds like a Trickster."

"A what?" I asked, and saw Dean gave a little nod from beside me.

"Trickster," Sam explained. "An immortal being that can create manifestations."

"We've been up against one before," Dean said, rolling his eyes, "that was fun."

"How do we stop it?" I asked, and Dean turned to pop open the trunk of the car. He pulled out a wooden stake.

"Stake dipped in the blood of one of its victims," He explained. "Stab 'em right through the heart."

I turned to see how Lisa was taking all of it in, and found that she had stood up and was looking warily at the sharpened wood in Dean's hands.

"Who are you?" She asked quietly, her eyes wide with shock.

"We're hunters, Lisa," I explained. "We go after things like this. Things like the one that killed those counselors, like the one that tried to take you."

She still looked unconvinced, so I went on.

"You have to trust us," I stepped towards her, extending my hands to show that I wasn't going to hurt her. "we're here to help you and everyone else at the camp."

Slowly, she nodded. "I believe you." She stated.

"Thank you." Sam said to her, and then turned back to Dean. "Where are we going to find the blood?" He asked. "They buried the counselors last week."

"Maybe I could help," Lisa said, and once again we turned to her. She had raised her arm up, and I could see that there was dark liquid trickling down her skin. I walked over to her, taking her arm and examining it. "That thing managed to scratch me when it grabbed me."

"Why didn't you tell me you got hurt?" I scolded.

"I couldn't talk right," She replied, giving me a nervous laugh.

"Here," Dean said from behind me, and I turned around to face him. He was holding the stake in one hand, and the med kit that we kept in the car in the other. I took the stake first, holding Lisa's arm steady as I carefully spun the wood in her blood. After I had gotten it thoroughly soaked, I handed it back to Dean and took the med kit from his outstretched hand.

"The only question now is who it is." Dean said as I made Lisa sit down on the gravel and opened the med kit. I looked up and met her eyes. We both knew who it could be. It was the only logical answer, really.

Blair.

I couldn't believe how ignorant I had been. Of course it was her. The weird magazine that she had been reading with the creature on it; it must have been a tabloid. How else would she have come up with such a way to kill the counselors? She had needed a story that no one would believe. And the way that she had acted when we had talked about the counselors dying, she had hesitated in answering me because she knew that both the victims were excellent swimmers.

"She wasn't trying to kill us because we didn't do anything wrong." I said to Lisa, and the boys stopped to look down at us. "She was only trying to scare us off because she knew we were on to her."

"Who is it?" Sam asked.

"The other counselor at our cabin," Lisa said.

"It's got to be her." I finished. "She's the only one that makes sense."

"Then let's kill her." Dean stated simply.

"No," Sam said, "not yet. We need to know for certain whether or not it was her."

"Then we do it tomorrow," Dean said. "We'll know by then." Sam and I nodded.

"What about tonight?" I asked, referring to having to go back to the cabin with a potential murderer, "What are we supposed to do?"

"Just watch her, see what she does." Sam explained. His eyes squinted in confusion, "It seemed like there was something else, a way to distinguish if someone was a trickster."

"They love candy," Dean said, and Sam nodded in agreement. "Can't stay away from the stuff,"

I nodded and then returned my focus to Lisa's arm, remembering how I had seen Blair eating a candy bar when I first got to the cabin. After I had cleaned up the shallow scratch and put a gauze patch over the wound, I stood up and then helped Lisa to her feet.

"Do we have to go back?" She asked, and I nodded solemnly.

"We can't let her know that we know it's her," I explained. "It's okay, I'll keep you safe."

She nodded, and then I turned back to the boys.

"Be careful," Sam said.

"You too," I replied, looking at the two of them. "I'll see you tomorrow morning." Then, after a final glance, Lisa and I started on our way back to the campfire, leaving the boys standing in the parking lot.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think so far? Am I doing a good job on the case? Please review, follow and favorite!


	15. Predator to Prey

So, this chapter is super long because I wanted to tie up this case so that we can move on to the next, more exciting one. I hope you like it!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

Lisa and I walked back towards the campfire, the scope of my flashlight sweeping back and forth across the forest floor. Though I doubted that something else would attack us, I kept a close eye out for anything just in case. I was able to see the flickering light of the fire in the distance when Lisa grabbed my arm and we stopped.

"What is it?" I asked.

"What are we supposed to tell Blair?" Lisa whispered.

"I'll make something up, it'll be okay." I assured her, and we turned to continue down the trail.

We walked on in silence until we came upon the fire. When we reached the pit, I turned the light off as the campers and Blair looked up at us in question.

"Where were you?" She asked, the shadows playing across her face, "We were all getting worried."

I quickly made up a lie. "Lisa fell and cut her arm on the way to the bathroom." I explained, and Lisa held her bandaged arm up for emphasis. "I took her to the camp nurse."

Blair nodded, and the rest of the girls went back to talking amongst themselves and snacking on the s'mores that we had brought to make.

"Well I'm glad you're alright," Blair said as I sat down next to her and Lisa made her way back around the fire to her original spot.

No one told any more stories that night, and the firelight danced across the trees.

* * *

That night after lights out in the cabin, I lay awake in bed for a long time. I was facing away from Blair's bed, but I could see a dim light reflected on the polished wooden wall in front of me. She was still awake. I could hear pages being turned quietly, and I suspected that she was looking through her tabloid magazines again. I also heard the crunch of a candy wrapper, which made me think back to what the boys had said about sweets.

Finally, her light turned out and I heard the magazine drop to the floor. I waited for a few minutes to make sure that she was asleep and then quietly turned over in my bed. Blair's bed was about five feet away from me, and she had seemed to have carelessly tossed the magazine in the middle of the floor between us.

As quietly as I could manage, I slipped my arm out from under the covers and reached down to pick up the magazine. I cautiously brought it up onto the bed with me, careful to not make any sound as I turned back to face the other way. I had kept my phone with me under the covers, and I pulled it up then so that I could see the pages clearly.

Blair had read through the magazine several times, judging by the frayed edges of the pages. I was right when I thought that I had seen a sea creature on the front of the tabloid, but of course it wasn't just a regular sea creature.

A picture of a humongous squid covered the front page, with bold headlines that read: **GIANT SQUID DROWNS BEACHGOERS. **I doubted that the article was real, but Blair had twisted the story into the deadly monster that had killed the counselors.

I flipped through the magazine, passing various pages on reported monster sightings, impossible stories of alien abductions and the like. I did flip to a page that was dog-eared and stopped, staring down at the picture of a 'goblin'. I wasn't shocked to find that it looked exactly like the one that Lisa and I had seen in the forest.

Only one other page in the magazine was marked, an article about a boy who had seen dinosaur-like creatures grazing in his backyard. I realized that this was probably Blair's next idea for a sick joke.

I flipped the magazine closed and switched off my phone, the sudden darkness making me unable to see. When my eyes finally adjusted, I quietly turned to my other side in the bed and stretched out to lay the magazine back where I had found it on the floor. And then I let myself go to sleep, too exhausted from the day's events to let the nightmares of my mom haunt my dreams.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, I couldn't help but notice that Dean seemed peppier than usual as he forked eggs and sausage into his mouth.

"I think you make 'em better." He said, gesturing to the eggs on his plate. I smiled in response, and then gave a short laugh at a piece of egg dangling out of his mouth. Sam came over and sat down, holding a plate of his own. He gave Dean a look.

"Did you have fun last night?" He asked, and Dean grinned at him.

"Why?" I questioned, turning to Dean, "What did you do?"

In response, he looked past me and on down the table. I followed his gaze and found the blonde from before smiling at him.

"You didn't." I accused, but Dean just kept smiling. "You did!" I hissed. He could really be pig-headed at times. I sighed. He really was just a girl-crazed teenager trapped inside a man's body.

"How did Blair act last night when you got back?" Sam asked quietly, changing the topic.

"Normal." I stated. "It was like nothing happened. But after lights out she was reading a tabloid magazine with a giant squid on the front cover, if that says anything."

"So that's where she's getting these insane ways to kill people from," Dean said.

"Probably," Sam replied, "Now all that's left to do is corner her," He explained.

"I assume we're not going to do it here?" I asked, looking around the crowded Mess Hall.

"No way," Dean commented, "I say we catch her in the act. All the more reason to gank her on the spot." It actually seemed like a good idea, but one thing was missing.

"But how do we know who she's going to go after next?" Sam asked. I turned to glance down the table at Blair, and was slightly shocked to see her glaring past me at Dean. Perhaps she knew about her blonde friends' previous night.

"I think I do." I stated.

* * *

Later that evening during the free period, Dean made his way alone up to the gym. Sarah had told the boys what she had thought would happen, and they agreed with her. Quickly they had formulated a plan, and now were putting it into action.

Dean walked down the path through the woods, the surrounding forest quiet. That was odd, considering that many of the campers enjoyed playing at the gym during their free time.

Suddenly, there was a movement in the forest next to Dean. He stopped immediately and turned around, looking for whatever it could have been. He didn't hear anything else, so he turned back around and continued on his way to the gym.

The sound came again and Dean froze on the path. This time the noise had come from a few yards behind him. He spun on his heels, and his eyes widened in horror.

Standing behind him on the path was a dinosaur-looking creature. It had a greenish-brown skin tone, and wielded sharp claws and razor teeth that seemed to be gleaming dangerously in the soft forest light streaming through the tall trees.

Dean took one step backwards and then turned around, planning on trying to lose the creature before it had a chance to rip him apart. Instead, he stood face-to-face with Blair, who was smirking mischievously up at Dean. He took a sharp intake of breath at her sudden presence.

"Thought you could get away with it, didn't you Dean?" Blair accused.

"Get away with what?" Dean questioned.

"Like you don't know," Blair led on, starting to walk in a slow circle around Dean, "like Cindy didn't tell me what you two were up to last night."

"So that was her name," Dean teased, and Blair stopped walking in front of him. He glanced backwards, his eyes lingering on the dinosaur-like creature that was still standing a few yards away from the pair.

"You think you're so funny," Blair said, her gaze turning cold. "but you can't just do something like that and not expect to face the consequences," She explained, stepping towards Dean and making him take a step in the way of the dinosaur. He threw his hands up.

"Hey, can't we just talk this out," Dean reasoned, "instead of, you know, feeding me to your pet?"

Blair shrugged, "We probably could," She leaned in close to Dean's ear, "but this way is so much more fun."

She sidestepped over to the border of the woods, and the dinosaur suddenly began to charge for Dean. He turned and started running down the path in the opposite direction, but the dinosaur was quickly catching up to him. The creature seemed to be right onto him when…

A figure jumped out of the line of trees, grabbing Dean and shoving him to the opposite side of the woods. The pair rolled down onto the forest floor, and Dean turned to look up at the person. It was Sam, who had been hiding behind one of the trees beside the path. Their plan was working. The creature had stopped running as well, confused as to where its prey had gone.

Blair let out a shriek in frustration, seeing what had occurred. Suddenly, a voice came from behind her.

"Blair," it said, and she spun around in shock.

Sarah stood close to the trickster, the stake soaked in Lisa's blood raised high above her head. Before Blair could react, Sarah plunged the wood down, straight into her heart. Blair looked at the hunter with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said, jerking the stake out of Blair's chest. The trickster slowly sunk to the ground as the remaining life drained from her body. The dinosaur, which was stood about fifty yards away at the time, slowly vanished into the air, and the woods became silent once more.

* * *

"So is it over now?" Lisa asked as we walked through the camp on our way back to the car. After the other activities manager had found Lisa's body on the path to the gym, Sam, Dean and I had decided that we could use it as an excuse to leave. The job was finished, and we were all ready to move on to another place.

"It should be," I explained. "The trickster is dead, so all of the weird things should stop happening now. Back to a boring old summer camp." I stopped at the edge of the woods, where the path led to the parking lot. Lisa turned to face me.

"I still think I'm going to go home for the year," She said, "I've had enough craziness for a lifetime."

"Welcome to my world." I said, smiling at the younger girl.

"You really do stuff like this all the time?" She asked and I nodded, putting my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

"Believe it or not, things like this happen every day," I stated, "we just go to great lengths to make sure you don't have to see." Lisa gave me a shy smile.

"Thank you," She said, "for everything that you do, that your brothers do."

"I don't hear that often enough," I said, joking. I turned away from her, ready to head to the car, "but you're welcome."

She waved at me as I left, and I made my way quietly back to the parking lot. When I got to the Impala, the boys were already in the car and ready to go. I climbed into the back seat, and Dean shifted the car into drive. We slowly rolled out of the parking lot.

"I'd say a job well done," Dean said, pulling onto the highway and cranking up the radio, which was playing some old rock and roll song.

"If only you'd manage not to try to get yourself killed," I said lowly and Sam heard, chuckling from the front seat as we drove down the tree-lined road.

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think of the case? What do you think will happen next? Please review, follow and favorite!


	16. Sleepy Bear Inn

So, here we are with a new case! I hope that you like it, it's kind of the transition case to the next part of the story!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

A couple of weeks after the case at Camp Blue Ridge, the three of us found ourselves in a bar in northern Montana. Sam and I had found a table to sit at, and he was flipping through a local newspaper to see if anything interesting was happening while I tapped impatiently on the table in front of me. I hated being idle for any amount of time. Dean had found a dart board nailed to the back wall, and had been chucking six darts into the cork over and over again. I sighed, and Sam looked up at me.

"You can walk around if you want," He stated, trying to hide his annoyance with my restlessness.

"Sorry," I apologized, pulling myself up out of the seat and walking over to the bar area. I sat down on a stool, and soon one of the bartenders made their way over to me. I ordered a drink and then waited for the bartender to fix it.

After the bartender brought back my drink and I paid, I overheard two men sitting next to me at the bar.

"I can't believe that another one happened," One said.

"And at the same hotel!" The other replied. "Something's definitely up with that." What was going on?

"Excuse me," I said, cutting in. The two men turned to look at me. "but can I ask what you're talking about?"

"Well," The first started, raising his hand to run his fingers through his hair nervously, "it's pretty out there."

"I think I can handle it," I countered, smiling widely at the men.

"You see," The second said after a little hesitation, "there's this hotel on the outskirts of town, called the Sleepy Bear Inn, and here lately a lot of scary stuff's been happening there."

"What kind of stuff?" I asked the man curiously.

"People's been dropping dead," He explained, "just killing themselves in their hotel rooms."

"How many people have died?" I asked. People just randomly killing themselves at the same hotel? That wasn't natural.

"Up to this point," He said sadly, "three."

"That's terrible." I consoled.

"I know," The first man said, looking downcast, "I hope someone can sort this out soon."

"Me too," I commented, grabbing my drink and hopping down off the barstool, "Well, fellas, thanks for the conversation." I said as I made my way back over to Sam and Dean, who were now both sitting at the table.

"Found our next case," I said, and the boys looked up at me. I explained what the men had told me about the hotel.

"A haunted hotel?" Dean asked, taking a swig of the beer he had gotten. "Sounds like a cheap tourist attraction to me."

"What other way is there to explain the deaths though?" Sam countered, "We need a place to stay tonight, anyways." He reasoned.

* * *

That evening, we made our way to the hotel. Upon entering the lobby, we were met by a little man behind the counter, who regarded us warily.

"I must warn you before you check in," He said quickly, "A lot of weird things have been happening around here lately."

"Like what?" Dean asked.

"Well, haven't you heard about the suicides?" He asked, and I feigned shock.

"Suicides?" I questioned, taking in a deep breath.

"Yes, Miss." He said. "People check in for a couple of nights, and then kill themselves." He sighed, his face downcast.

"How are they doing it?" Sam asked cautiously, "If you don't mind me asking," He added.

"Strangling themselves." He breathed. "I don't know how they did it, but they always had fingerprint marks on their throats, and it was always around two in the morning when they died. At least, that's what the coroner said."

We nodded to the man and then, even after he had cautioned us against it, we checked into a room. As we were walking down the hallway, we passed a short, stubby man who was pushing a maintenance cart. When he passed us his shoulder knocked into mine, causing me to momentarily lose my balance. I turned around to look at him, but he just glanced back at me as he continued down the hallway.

"What was that about?" I asked the boys. They just shrugged, and then we continued on to the room.

* * *

_My mother's eyes blinked open and she looked tenderly up at me. I smiled back down at her, but then stopped when I realized that the expression on her face had turned into horror. She wasn't looking directly at me, but at something behind me._

_I spun around, only to see that someone else was in the room with me. A girl, who seemed to be about my age was standing in front of me, and I rose to stand eye-to-eye with her. She had straight sandy blonde hair that reached down to her mid-back. She wore a plain grey t-shirt under a dark leather jacket, and dark jeans tucked into black military boots._

_Her eyes regarded me wildly, and then her hand shot out to grasp my throat tightly and I felt my feet lift off the ground. I started choking and she smiled, the pupils in her eyes dilating until the whites of her eyes had turned a sickly black color._

I shot awake, cold sweat pouring down my face. This was a new addition to my dream, and it definitely wasn't right. I had never seen a girl in my dreams before, so why would one suddenly appear now? I looked over to see Dean asleep on the other side of the bed, relieved that he hadn't woken up. I really didn't want to relive what had happened in my nightmare. As quietly as I could, I scooted over so that my back was pressed up against his, attempting to calm myself down. I stayed awake for a long time after that, unable to get the girl's eyes out of my head.

* * *

The next morning, we all woke up in time to head down to the complimentary breakfast at the hotel. I grabbed my bowl of cereal and made my way over to a table, where Dean and Sam already sat. Dean had various breakfast foods piled onto his plate, and I made a face at the small mountain of food.

"What?" Dean said, his mouth stuffed with food. I just shook my head and turned the other way. I watched as another person, a thicker man wearing a suit and carrying a computer case, made his way into the room. I guessed that he was also staying at the hotel, surprised that he wasn't scared off by the recent deaths.

As he made his way over to an empty table holding a cup of coffee, the same maintenance man as the night before walked by him towards the lobby. As he passed him, the maintenance man bumped into him just hard enough to make him spill his coffee onto the front of his tie and shirt.

"Hey man!" The man in the suit exclaimed when the maintenance guy kept walking. "Watch where you're going!" The guy only turned around to stare strangely at the man before he continued walking towards the hotel lobby. The man in the suit walked over to the breakfast buffet to grab a few napkins and started to wipe off his tie. The manager that we met the night before rushed over to him from where he was sitting at the front desk.

"I'm sorry about Lennie." He said, grabbing a handful of napkins, "He has his moments."

"Obviously," The man pointed out, and I turned back to the boys. They were both watching the encounter as well.

"What is with this hotel?" I asked, and they remained silent, unable to answer my question.

* * *

Later that night, we were all back in our room. We had gone out to the public library to search for anything incriminating about the hotel, but turned up empty-handed. I was planning to do a little research on my computer in the morning, but for now we were just winding down for the night.

I had also made another stop in town, at the local drugstore. The boys had wanted to run into a surplus store to buy extra supplies for the road, but I had stayed in the car. The drugstore was only two businesses down in the strip mall that we were at, so I quickly dashed in and out, hoping that the boys would be gone long enough for my absence to go unnoticed.

I had gotten sleeping pills in an attempt to quell the recurring nightmares. My body couldn't take much more of the spasmodic sleeping; I needed to rest. Hopefully the medication would settle the horrid nightmares and let me finally get a full night's sleep.

After I had showered and returned to the room, I slipped one of the pills and climbed into bed. True to the label, within ten minutes I was out like a light.

* * *

The next morning on the way down to the breakfast room, we passed a horrific sight. Paramedics were wheeling a body bag out of a hotel room and down the hall. Dean stopped one of them and asked what happened.

"Think he strangled himself," The paramedic explained, "there's no other explanation for the hand-prints on his neck."

"When did he die?" Sam asked, "We didn't hear anything from our room."

"Around two," The paramedic followed up, "you probably wouldn't have been able to."

He walked on then, following the other paramedics down the hallway. I glanced inside the victim's room and saw a briefcase that I recognized from the day before at breakfast.

"That was the man from breakfast yesterday." I said to the boys, and they looked into the room as well.

"What did he do wrong?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean said as he turned to walk down the hallway towards the lobby, "but we sure as hell better figure it out soon."

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think so far? Any ideas of what might be coming? Please review, follow and favorite! I'll see you on Monday!


	17. Tacos and Revenge

So what are you thinking about the case so far? I hope you enjoy the chapter!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

As we walked into the lobby I noticed the manager standing at the front door, wringing his hands as the paramedics walked by. I made my way over to him and placed my hand gently on his arm, and he jumped under my touch.

"Are you okay?" I asked when he turned to look at me.

"I just– I just don't know what's causing this," He said in a shaky voice. "Why are these people doing this?" He appeared to be trembling, so I took him arm and started to lead him away from the door.

"You need to sit down, sir," I said, and he complied. I turned to help him to one of the couches situated in the lobby, and found that Sam and Dean were watching me from the middle of the room. When they saw me coming over, they made their way to the sitting area as well.

I guided the man to the couch, where he sat down and immediately placed his head in his hands. I lowered myself next to him and glanced up at Sam and Dean, who were sitting in the two recliners across from us.

"It's not your fault," I consoled the man, who looked up at me. "You couldn't have possibly known that they were going to do this."

I waited for him to calm down a little before I continued. "My partners and I," I said, gesturing to Sam and Dean, who were looking at me in confusion, "we're undercover cops from Helena, and we think that something bigger might be going on here." I explained. "We need your help, Mr.—," I cut off; I had never caught his name.

"Harrison," He stated. "Louis Harrison. But I don't understand officer," He mused, "what could possibly be happening?"

"We don't know," Sam cut in, and we turned to face him. "That's why we're here Louis. Is it alright if we ask you a few questions?" Sam asked.

"Of course," Mr. Harrison said, "anything to make all of this stop."

"Do you remember when all of this started?" Dean asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

Louis reached up to scratch his chin. "About a month ago," He remembered, "that's when the first lady killed herself."

"Do you remember if anything changed here at the hotel during that time?" I asked.

"Not that I can remember," He said, but then stopped, "actually, there was." He finished, and I looked at him with raised eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "That was when we first hired Lennie."

"The maintenance man?" Dean asked, eying me and Sam.

"Uh, yeah." Louise confirmed. "The suicides started about a week later. Wait," He stopped and looked around at the three of us, "you don't think he has something to do with this, do you?"

"I don't know," Sam replied, "but believe me, we're going to find whatever is doing this and stop it."

* * *

Later that night Dean and I were back in the room, and I was sitting with my computer on the small hotel table in front of me. I was trying to pull up some information on the previous victims, as well as to who might be haunting the hotel in the first place.

Sam had made a run back to the library to try to find anything else that might have been useful to the case. I heard the door click open and he stepped into the room, holding a bag of food along with several drinks. I cracked my sore knuckles and stood up from the hard motel chair, glad that he had thought to get us something to eat. I was starving from lack of breakfast that morning.

I walked over to where he had set the bag on the bed and pulled out several items of what appeared to be Mexican food, and took one of the drinks out of his hands. I returned to the table after saying thanks and sat down, placing the food in front of me. I shut my computer and picked it up, setting it on the bed beside me so that I wouldn't get any food on it.

Dean had been sitting on the other bed watching a talk show on the small television set, but when Sam walked in he jumped up, eager to get some food.

"Thanks Sammy," Dean said as he grabbed something out of the bag. Sam nodded to him, and then took out something for himself and made his way over to the table to sit opposite me. Dean placed himself back on the bed, sitting up so that he could sit his food on his lap while he ate.

"Did you find anything?" Dean asked as he unwrapped what appeared to be a burrito and bit off a mouthful. I pulled out a taco from my small pile of food and took a bite, the spicy flavors quenching my hunger almost immediately.

"Yeah," Sam explained, unwrapping his own taco, "I might have found who could be haunting the place," we waited for him to continue, "There was this woman, named Abigail Green, back in 1965, who stayed at the hotel on her honeymoon. A few days after she and her husband checked in, the house cleaning staff found her strangled body in her bedroom with her husband gone." He explained.

"So you think she's a vengeful spirit?" I asked.

"I don't know," Sam replied, "usually I would think so, but I've got a nagging feeling that we're missing something here."

"Like what," Dean asked, wiping away some sauce that had started to drip down his chin.

"I'm not sure," Sam continued, "I just don't think that—" He was cut off when we all heard a quiet squeaking noise coming from somewhere in the room. We glanced at each other to make sure that we were all hearing the same thing, and then I turned my head to try and locate where the sound was coming from.

I looked all around the hotel room, and my gaze eventually landed on the mirror that was hung in the entryway to the main area. A red line was slowly forming over the reflective surface. I stood up and walked a little closer to the mirror and then turned back to look at the boys, who were looking at the mirror with widened eyes.

I turned back around to watch the mirror silently, and gazed at the red liquid that seemed to be forming letters. I looked on as an _H _slowly appeared, and was followed shortly by the rest of a small phrase.

_HELP ME_

The writing stopped for a moment and I was about to wonder out loud what this could possibly mean when the liquid formed two last letters:

_-AG_

"_AG_," I repeated, still facing the mirror, "Abigail Green," I looked around at the boys, "Looks like you were right, Sam," I mused, "we don't have a vengeful spirit after all,"

* * *

A/N: Thoughts, comments? I apologize that this chapter isn't as interesting as other ones, but it's mainly a filler for things to come. What do you think is going on here? Please review, favorite and follow! I'll see you on Friday!


	18. Writings on the Wall--Err, Mirror

Here's the next chapter! Remember to review, follow, and favorite!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

I gazed at the markings on the mirror, wondering what they could possibly mean. I was almost certain that what Sam had said was true; Abigail Green was haunting the hotel, the evidence was too rock-solid to ignore, but why would she be killing people if she had asked us for help? I turned away from the mirror and returned to my seat at the table across from Sam.

"Well this sure changes things," Dean pointed out, gesturing to the mirror. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," Sam said, rubbing his temple, "but we need to focus on what's connecting the victims, it might help us stop someone else from getting killed,"

"I searched all of their profiles today," I said, moving to place my computer back on the table in front of me. I opened it and pulled up my research from before so that I could read the information off to Sam and Dean, "The first victim was a woman named Shirley Johnson," I explained, reading from my screen, "she was killed right around a month ago. Nothing seemed out of place judging by what I found; she was just a dentist driving back to Oregon from a retreat in Minnesota, no incriminating evidence whatsoever."

"What about the other victims?" Dean asked from the bed.

"Second murder was Michael Trenton," I read off, "A doctor from the lower part of the state. Came up to do a lecture and never made it back." I explained, and then proceeded to pull up the third victim's credentials. "Third victim was a psychologist named Barbara Lovell," I stated, "stayed here on the way to visit her family in Idaho."

"Sure picked the wrong hotel then," Dean joked, trying to lighten the mood.

I continued, ignoring my brother, "And the fourth was the man that we saw yesterday; his name was Timothy Phillips. He was a lawyer working a case in Helena and decided to take this route back home."

I shut my computer and glanced over at the clock on the bedside table: _12:17 AM._ It was getting closer to two, and I was afraid that someone else might get hurt if we didn't act fast.

"Is there even anything that links the victims together?" I asked as I rubbed the back of my neck, which was cramping from sitting in the same position for so long.

"They all seemed to be going somewhere," Sam pointed out.

"Aren't we all?" Dean asked sarcastically, earning him a look from Sam.

I was too busy thinking over the facts to commentate, and something that I remembered had caught my attention.

"Their jobs," I pointed out, and both of the boys turned to look at me in confusion.

"What about 'em?" Dean asked.

"I mean, think about it," I said, "A doctor, lawyer, psychologist, and a dentist," I listed. "What do you think of when you hear those named off?"

Sam tilted his head, "They're all pretty prominent jobs," He said, "usually an ideal job to have."

"And they all chose to stay here within the past month," I continued. "After Lennie started working at the hotel."

"How does he tie in with it though?" Sam asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"How would you feel if you were a maintenance man," Dean cut in, "and all you saw was people who were higher up than you?" He explained, "Don't know about you, but that would make me pretty mad,"

"It makes sense," I said, nodding my head, "but that doesn't explain how he can kill them,"

"He might be controlling Abigail's ghost," Sam commented, looking over at the blood on the mirror. "making her kill people in the same way that she died."

"How could he do that?" I asked. I hadn't ever heard of something like that happening before.

"We've seen it a time or two in the past," Dean said, "usually the person's got a talisman of sorts, you know, voodoo hoodoo." Dean wiggled his fingers in front of his face.

"So how can we stop him?" I asked.

"Pretty much the only way is to corner him into giving up control of Abigail," Sam explained. "but I don't know if now is the right time to do it," He finished.

I stood up from the table, "Maybe Mr. Harrison could let me see Lennie's records," I stated. "We might be able to find out more about where he came from. It might help us somehow." The boys nodded in agreement, and I made my way over to the door, letting it swing shut behind me after I stepped out into the hallway.

I was about halfway to the lobby when I saw a cart turn a corner in front of me, followed shortly by Lennie. I was about to turn around and pretend to walk the other way, but I thought that it might look suspicious to him so I continued down the hall like nothing was wrong.

When I was about to pass the man, one of the bottles of cleaner started to tumble off the cart, and without thinking I reached forwards to stop it from hitting the floor. I lifted it back up to Lennie, who had stopped the cart.

"Thanks," He said quietly, taking the bottle and sitting it back on the cart.

"No problem," I said, smiling at him. If I was going to act normal, I might as well go all the way. I started to turn to walk on down to the lobby when Lennie spoke up.

"Hey, I was passing by the lobby this morning when you were talking to Louis," He started, and I turned to face him, my eyebrows rose, "didn't you say that you were a police officer?" He asked, and I reluctantly nodded. Best to keep up the story until we left.

"That's right," I complied, wondering what I was getting myself into by saying it.

"I bet you make a lot of money," He said accusingly. I realized my mistake a second too late.

"It's decent, but not as much as you would think," I replied, trying to change his mind set on my fake identity, "nothing as much as, you know, a doctor or lawyer would make."

He huffed in response, and then turned to continue walking down the hallway. As he turned, the flap of his shirt came open for a brief second, and I could clearly see a small circular necklace with a plus sign-like mark in the middle. Then it was concealed from my view as Lennie walked on down the hall. I turned and continued to the lobby, but I didn't ask the manager for Lennie's papers. I had a much bigger problem on my hands.

* * *

A/N: So what are your thoughts on the case so far? I know it's getting pretty intense, but as I said, this is a transitional case. Nothing in this universe can stay at peace for long, it seems.


	19. 2:00 AM

Alright, here's the next chapter! Considering that it's the next to last chapter to the end of the case, what do you think will happen?

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

"What?" Dean exclaimed after I had reentered the hotel room and explained to the boys what had happened in the hallway. He was standing in front of me by one of the beds in the room.

"I might be next," I repeated, moving to sit on the edge of the beds. I looked over at the clock again: _12:48 AM_. If I was right, then I only had about two hours before a ghost tried to strangle me to death.

Dean swore under his breath, and Sam stood up from his seat at the table.

"Did you see anything that he might be using to control Abigail's ghost with?" Sam asked, moving to sit next to me on the bed.

"Lennie was wearing some kind of necklace," I explained, remembering what I had seen in the hallway before. "Like a circle with a plus-sign inside of it,"

"Classic voodoo," Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall in front of us, "I'd bet good money that that's the cause of all this crap."

"We've got to stop this before the ghost can get to you," Sam said to me. I looked up at him and saw that he was glancing around the room nervously.

"How?" I asked, and Dean pushed himself off the wall.

"We blow him to shreds," He said angrily, "no one messes with my family,"

"Dean, calm down," Sam said, turning to face his brother. "We'll stop it, but you've got to have a clear head first."

"I'll be okay," I assured, "believe me, no ghost is getting its hands on me without a fight."

The boys stood in silence for a moment; Dean fuming to himself and Sam cautiously glancing at the door every few seconds. I couldn't stand the rising tension any longer, so I stood up and walked towards the door.

"Why don't we go get some weapons from the car?" I suggested, "You know, in case I _do _happen to get attacked by a ghost?"

"Best plan I've heard all day," Dean said, still mad from the sound of it. He stalked towards the door and Sam followed behind, holding the door open for me as we went to prepare ourselves for the coming hours.

* * *

I sat alone in the hotel room, a sawed-off placed horizontally across my lap. I had positioned myself directly across from the door in a chair, so that I would have a good shot at seeing the ghost before it could get to me.

By the time we had gotten back to the room with supplies it had already been about 1:30, so Sam and Dean wasted no time in loading up and heading to the maintenance room to corner Lennie. They had left me in the room by myself, even though they hated the idea of it. They both had agreed though, that it was probably better that I wasn't with them when they found the maintenance man. They had hoped to be done before 2:00 anyways, so hopefully I would have nothing to worry about.

I glanced over at the clock: _1:46 AM. _I checked the cartridge of the gun to find that both of the rock-salt cases were still in place, and then clicked the barrel back into position. My fingers beat out an impatient beat on the hard metal armrest, and I waited for something to happen.

* * *

Dean awoke to the sound of an automated air conditioning unit switching on. He looked around him, only to realize that he was on a hard concrete floor in what appeared to be a back room somewhere, filled with many boxes and machines lining the walls. He tried to get up, but his hands were tied behind him with some sort of rope to a steel pipe that was running up the wall and into the ceiling above.

Dean turned to his side and saw that Sam was also there, knocked out and tied to a similar pipe, parallel to the one he was attached to. His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as he wondered how they had gotten into this situation, but suddenly the night's previous events came back to him.

He and Sam had found the maintenance room and barged in without so much as a warning, only to find that there appeared to be no sign of Lennie. They had searched the room thoroughly and found a small alter of sorts in one of the supply closets. Both of the brothers had crouched down to get a closer look, but then Dean remembered feeling a sharp pain in the back of his head. Then he had woken up tied to the pipe.

Dean realized that Lennie must have found the boys looking at his black magic and had knocked them out. He looked around for the maintenance man, but Lennie was nowhere to be seen. Dean turned around the best he could to face Sam.

"Sam," he said in a harsh whisper, "Sammy!" He called again in the same tone, and Sam's head lolled to the side before rising up.

"What happened?" The younger brother slurred.

"I'll tell ya what happened," a voice came from the other side of the room, and both of the Winchesters looked up to see the maintenance man walk into the main room from the supply closet. "Two boys were snooping around in places they weren't supposed to."

"Listen here," Dean threatened, "if you lay a hand on my sister I'll kill you myself." The man only looked down at the elder brother with a heated glare.

"Are you even police officers?" Lennie asked, ignoring his question.

"No, and neither is Sarah," Sam clarified. "please hear us out, you need to stop this now."

"Afraid I can't do that son." Lennie explained. "Do you know what it's like to feel underappreciated?"

"Yes, actually, we do." Sam explained as Lennie slowly walked towards the two, his hand clutching the talisman.

"You could never know the pain that I go through, seeing all these folks that come and go. They come through here, acting all top-of-the-world. They don't deserve it." Lennie explained as he stopped in front of the boys.

"That doesn't give you a right to kill them!" Dean yelled at the man. Lennie eyed him, but didn't respond.

"Y'all may not be police officers," Lennie continued, "but the way that girl acted, like she _was_ one, that ain't right."

"She was only trying to help." Sam pleaded. "That's no reason to hurt her."

Lennie gazed at the pair warily before turning away and walking back over to the small closet.

"No matter," he said, shrugging off the boys' argument, "it's almost time anyways,"

"We've got to get out of here," Sam whispered low enough so that Lennie couldn't hear him.

"On it," Dean shot back, looking around him for something that he could use to cut the ropes binding his hands together. He spotted a sharpened piece of scrap metal about a yard away from his feet. Carefully, Dean scooted as far forwards as he could and used his foot to slowly drag the shard back to him. He turned to take it into his hands, and then pulled it around the back of the pipe and started sawing through the thick ropes.

All this time Sam was keeping an eye on the supply closet door, where Lennie could be heard quietly chanting in a foreign language.

"Dean, hurry," Sam pointed out, and Dean glanced up at him.

"Working on it," He huffed under the strain of trying to cut through the bindings.

* * *

I tapped my foot against the carpeted floor and bit my lip. The boys still hadn't come back. I looked at the clock, _1:58 AM._ Something was terribly wrong. I glanced nervously over at the table, where I had set extra rock-salt cartridges in case I needed them. All in all there were six, including the two already in the gun.

I looked back at the clock; _1:59 AM._ I stood from my seat and checked the sawed-off one last time before holding it in front of me at a lowered position. Looking forward at the door, I wished that we had thought to lay down a salt line. We didn't think that it would be needed, so the precaution hadn't been taken. Now it was too late to do anything. I took a deep breath and silently prayed that Dean and Sam were alright, and then glanced at the clock once more.

_2:00 AM_

The lights started to flicker, and I noticed my breath materializing in front of me as the air was drastically colder than before. Suddenly, as I was looking at the door, I saw a dark mass begin to pour in through the sides of the wooden panel. I raised up the gun and took aim.

It was starting.

* * *

A/N: So, what do you think? Please, as always, review, follow and favorite!


	20. What Happened in Room 6

So, here's the next chapter, and believe me, it's a doozy! Trust me though, what happens is crucial to the overall plot of the story, I promise.

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

The dark mass began to form into a crude-shaped person as soon as it came through the sides of the door. The human-like figure extended a black arm in my direction and started towards me across the small hotel room.

I fired the first casing from the gun, and the figure burst apart and swirled into the air. I knew that it wasn't over though, so I cocked the gun again and inched backwards until I hit the wall.

A few seconds later, I saw the black figure begin to materialize again, but closer to me than before. I raised the gun and shot the ghost with the other bullet. After the mass had vanished once more, I opened the barrel and removed the empty shells. As fast as I could, I pulled two more of the rock-salt cartridges off the table and placed them into the gun. I clicked the barrel back into place and raised the gun, waiting for the ghost to make another appearance.

I sighed deeply, and noticed that the air around me seemed colder than it already was. I swept the room with the barrel of the gun, but the ghost wasn't materializing as fast as it had been. I took a few steps towards the opposite door. Suddenly I heard something that sounded like a breath behind me, and I spun to find that the black mass had once again appeared, but this time it was right next to me.

Without any time to react, the ghost shot forward and knocked the gun out of my hands. It clattered to the floor between the two beds, and I scrambled to get it before the ghost could reach me. I dropped to the floor and grabbed at my only defense, bringing it back around to where the mass had appeared just moments before.

The black figure swirled in front of me, hand extended. I started to breathe harder, wondering if I would actually make it out of the room alive. Where were Sam and Dean?

* * *

Dean sliced through the last rope binding his wrists and jumped up, rushing over to Sam and helping him break free of his binds as well. Dean pulled his brother to his feet, and the pair ran over towards the supply closet where Lennie was still chanting.

The maintenance man was holding up the talisman when the brothers rounded the corner and started to rush at him. He stopped the ritual and turned to face them.

"It's too late now, "He said, grinning, "you're sister's probably dead."

Dean lunged for him then and Lennie threw the talisman down onto the floor, shattering the ritualistic object on the hard concrete. Dean made a fist and punched Lennie hard across the jaw, sending the man to the floor. Sam rushed forward and pulled Dean away from the supply closet before he could hurt the man further.

* * *

I tried to fire another round into the ghost, but before I could it suddenly rushed forward, knocking me back onto the bed. The gun misfired into the ceiling, sending shards of rock salt cascading down onto the covers around me. I lost my grip on the gun and it flew out of my hands once more. This time it landed on the other side of the room, where I knew I would never get to it in time.

I struggled to pull myself off the bed and away from the ghost, but it was already hovering over me, the darkness seeming to block out the rest of the light in the room. Two hands extended from the black mass and grabbed my throat before I could protest, and the ghost forced me down against the hard bed.

I tried to break free, but the ghost was too strong for me to do much harm against it. I soon found myself unable to move effectively due to the lack of oxygen, and I began to gasp for air. The ghost's grip around my neck tightened, and as dark splotches made their way into the edges of my vision I slowly lost my grip on consciousness. The last thing I saw was the swirling black of the ghost in front of me, and then my vision went black as my eyelids slipped closed.

* * *

"I think you've made a big mistake," Sam said to Lennie, who was trying to pull himself off the concrete and dabbing at a bloodied nose. "you destroyed the talisman. You're not in control of the ghost anymore."

"So what?" Lennie said, "You can't stop what happened anyways,"

"Maybe we can't," Dean started, "But that ghost is sure as hell going to be mad at you for making it kill all those people."

Lennie began to protest, but suddenly he looked past the boys, horror forming in his eyes. The pair turned to see what he was looking at, and saw that a swirling black mass had materialized behind them. They both stepped out of the way as the mass started forward across the room and continued past them, its target being Lennie.

"No!" Lennie started, dragging himself backwards across the floor until he was cornered in the back of the supply closet, "Stop! Don't hurt me, I'm your master!" But the figure continued on, until it had completely covered Lennie's body. The boys couldn't see what happened next, but when the ghost stepped away they saw that it had chocked Lennie to death; his body was lying limply in the corner of the small closet.

The dark mass turned back towards them, and with a shock the brothers realized that a face was starting to appear in the blackness. Following shortly after was the rest of the body, which was quickly transforming into the shape of a woman.

She was wearing a white dress with red floral accents printed on it, and her auburn hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. She had a pretty face, but the area around her neck was covered in deep purple bruises. She looked up at the two boys in front of her after she had completely materialized.

"Abigail?" Sam asked, and the woman nodded slowly. Suddenly, a bright light began to emanate from within the woman's body, and after a final smile crossed her lips, she disappeared in a brilliant flash. The room grew very still, and the two brothers knew that the ghost had crossed over to the afterlife.

"Sarah," Dean said a couple seconds after the ghost had disappeared, and without another word he and Sam rushed out of the maintenance room and back to their room. Dean went in first, throwing the door open and barging into the small motel room.

Sarah was lying sideways on her back on the first of the two beds, and at first it looked like she was only sleeping. Upon closer look though, there was a large red area covering the skin around her neck. Dean rushed over and climbed onto the bed, bending over to place his ear next to her lips.

"She's not breathing!" He yelled as Sam sat on the other side of the bed and felt the area under her neck with two fingers.

"She doesn't have a heartbeat," He said quickly, and Dean took her face in his hands and tilted her head back to open up her airways.

"Sarah!" He yelled, but got no response. He shifted to his knees on the bed and placed his mouth over hers, starting to give her CPR. After two breaths, he pulled away and crossed his hands over each other, linking his fingers together. He moved down to her chest and started doing compressions on her heart. After three rounds of CPR, he slowly raised himself off the bed. Sam looked up at his brother and realized that he had tears in his eyes. Dean started pacing around the room as Sam looked back down at their sister.

"No," He said to himself and started where Dean left off, breathing for Sarah. After a couple of breaths, he moved to beat his sister's heart.

"C'mon," He said to her limp body. He gave five compressions on her chest, and then moved back to her face. Sam lowered his face to hers and gave two deep breaths, then raised back up. He looked at Dean, who had tears streaming down his face. He and his brother exchanged glances as tears began to fall down Sam's cheeks. In a sudden outrage, Dean turned and punched the wall behind him, pulling away with bloody knuckles.

Sam looked back down at Sarah, and was about to move off the bed when his sister suddenly shot back into the world of the living, taking a raspy breath as her eyes shot wide open. Sam looked down at her in shock, and then she started coughing loudly through a coarse throat.

"Sarah," Sam said, gathering his sister into his arms and holding her close to his body. Dean spun around from the wall to see what had happened, and then quickly rushed over to the pair. He joined them on the bed and took Sarah into his arms after Sam had released her.

"I'm so sorry we left you alone," He said, tears still falling down his face.

"It's okay," Sarah gasped, looking up at the pair of them, "I'm okay."

* * *

A/N: I'm almost afraid to ask what you think. But tell me anyways.


	21. Secrets Kept

So I know that last chapter was a big one in the overall plot of the story, so I hope that you'll still be interested. Please keep reading!

-Sparky

*Disclaimer*

I do not own anything in the Supernatural universe, only Sarah.

* * *

Sarah had fallen asleep in the Impala shortly after her and the boys left the motel. They hadn't even checked out; Sam had grabbed all of the bags while Dean picked up Sarah, her neck a vibrant red and deep circles beginning to form under her eyes. He had taken her out to the car, placing her gently in the back seat and then helping Sam put their bags into the trunk. The ghost was no longer haunting the hotel and Lennie was dead; they didn't have any other reason to stay. And besides, they wanted to get Sarah back to Bobby's as soon as possible so that she could rest there.

Dean drove while Sam sat in the passenger seat, both of them glancing back at their sister every so often. For a long time neither of them said a word.

"We shouldn't have left her," Dean finally said.

"I know," Sam agreed.

"She's in danger when she's around us," Dean said bluntly, "just like everyone else."

"Dean, she knew what she was getting into when she came with us," Sam countered.

"She almost died!" Dean hissed, not wanting to wake Sarah up. "She _was_ dead for a few minutes. That's on us," He said quietly. "Her death would've been on us."

"Well what do you want us to do about it?" Sam asked, running his hand through his hair in exasperation.

Dean glanced at Sarah through the rearview mirror. "She can stay at Bobby's from now on," He decided, "She'll be safer there."

"So, what," Sam pointed out, looking over at his brother, who wore a hardened expression on his face, "we just leave her there?"

"What else can we do?" Dean asked, turning to look at Sam. His eyes were still red from the hotel.

"She's going to be furious," Sam stated.

"I know," Dean replied, "but I don't see any other way to make this better."

Neither said anything else as they drove down the empty road towards South Dakota.

* * *

"Sarah?" I heard, and my eyelids slowly drifted apart. I looked up to see Dean standing over me outside the open car door, so I started to reach up to pull myself out using the passenger side seat as support. Dean reached in and took my hand instead, and I let him help me out of the car. I still felt very weak from the night before, and when I hit the solid ground my knees wobbled a little. Dean wrapped his arm around me to support some of my weight, and together we turned to walk away from the Impala.

"Where are we?" I asked with a hoarse throat. I reached up and rubbed my sore neck.

"At Bobby's," Dean answered, looking down at me with worried eyes. I returned the gaze, confused because I had never seen Dean look at me like that before.

"Are you alright?" I asked as we walked towards the looming house. Dean didn't ever seem worried.

"Are you?" He countered, ignoring my question.

"Yeah," I responded, and then looked around, "where's Sam?"

"He went on ahead to take our bags in," Dean said as we walked up onto the porch and he opened the door for me. He helped me inside and around the main room into the kitchen, where Bobby and Sam were standing. They had been talking, but stopped when Dean and I came in. Bobby walked up to me and engulfed me in a hug.

"Hey kid," He said, his arms tight around me, "heard you had a rough time last night."

"Yeah," I responded, and Bobby pulled back to look at me. "I'm alright though," I said, smiling, "just got knocked out for a couple of minutes. Nothing too bad." Bobby shifted his gaze up to Dean, who was looking down at me with a pained expression. When we made eye contact, he looked away.

I looked over at Sam, who was gazing blankly down at the kitchen table in front of him.

"Are you two okay?" I asked loudly, and Sam looked up and gave me a small smile.

"Yeah," He said, nodding, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Still just a little shook up from last night," Dean responded, and I turned to him. His lips had formed into a hard line.

"Did the maintenance man really treat you that bad?" I asked with a smirk. Dean's expression changed into a rough smile, but no one answered me.

"Are you hungry?" Bobby asked, and I looked over at him, "I've got some leftover pizza from yesterday if y'all want some."

"Sounds good," I replied, shrugging out of my coat, "but I need to use the bathroom first; road trips don't do anything for the bladder," I joked, and Bobby chuckled. I draped my jacket across the back of one of the chairs, and without another word from the boys I made my way across the kitchen and up the stairs towards the bathroom.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Bobby asked as soon as he heard the bathroom door shut.

Sam pulled out one of the chairs at the table and sat down, and Dean moved to take the one opposite of him.

"We left her alone in the hotel room while we went after this nutcase with a voodoo hobby. She got attacked by a ghost," Dean paused in his explanation as he lowered himself into the chair, "She was dead when we got to her," He continued quietly, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose, "and if we had been any later getting back, she might have stayed that way."

"I was about to give up," Sam said, biting his lip in frustration, "but thank God she woke up when she did."

"Let me guess," Bobby started after a moment's silence, "you two are already blaming yourselves for this." He accused.

"It _is_ our fault," Dean said, staring up at the older man, "we shouldn't have left her alone when we knew she was at risk."

"Sarah's fine now," Bobby said, locking eyes with the eldest Winchester. "focus on that, son."

"We want her to stay here with you," Sam said, interjecting into the conversation. Bobby turned to face him but the younger brother just looked at his hands, which were folded on the table in front of him.

"What?" He asked, dumbstruck.

"She'll be safer if she's not with us," Dean explained bluntly.

"Well that's nonsense," Bobby countered, letting out a single nonchalant laugh, "she's happier with you."

"Maybe she is," Dean continued, "but this is what's best for her. And that's all I care about."

Bobby sighed in defeat, and then pulled out another of the chairs and sat down.

"Are you going to at least tell her?" He asked quietly. Sam looked up at Bobby sadly.

"We'll be gone by tomorrow," Dean said instead of replying to Bobby's question, "we can leave tonight after she falls asleep."

* * *

I stood facing the mirror in the bathroom, and an unmoving phantom stood looking back at me. My skin had a slight pallor to it that made me paler than I normally was, giving a similar appearance to that of a corpse. Add to that the blossoming purple bruises around my neck and the darkened circles under my eyes, and I might as well have been the ghost myself.

I thought back to the night before, to when I woke up after the ghost attacked me. The way that Dean and Sam had embraced me with tears streaming down their faces; it was odd. They never got that emotional on hunts, and if I was only unconscious then they must have realized that I would have woken up eventually.

I shrugged it off, making my neck cramp in the process. I opened the door to return downstairs, relieved to be back at Bobby's house. At least it was over now, and we would be able to get back on the road before too long.

* * *

A/N: What do you think? Please review, follow and favorite, as always! I'll see you on Friday!


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